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LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S 
NEW HOME 


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“She stood close beside her mother . . . golden head resting 
against her shoulder.” 


[Page 14.] 


LITTLE 

MISS CRICKET’S 
NEW HOME 


BY 


GABRIELLE E. JACKSON 


AUTHOR OP 

“little miss cricket,” etc. 



NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
1907 












CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. — ^What Happened at Long Point . . . 1 

II. — Cricket’s New World 13 

III. — Mehitable’s Sifting 27 

IV. — Mehitable Meets Her Match .... 38 

V. — ^Nemesis 49 

VI. — ^'‘Yer Won’t See Yer Beau No More” . . 59 

VII. — ^The Cricket’s Chirp 72 

VIII. — Sally Fielder Goes A-Voyaging ... 84 

IX. — ^The Yachting Trip and What Came of it . 95 

X. — Bunny Meets His Match 108 

XI. — ^“What Does My Birthday Mean?” . . . 118 

XII. — ^King to the Rescue 131 

XIII. — Sally Aspires to Higher Things . . . 142 

XIV. — ^When Hobgoblins Frolic 154 

XV.— '‘What Shall We Do with Her?” . . .167 

XVI. — ^“Good Will Toward Men” 180 

XVII. — ^What a Letter Did at Long Point . . . 192 

XVIII. — Mehitable’s Journey 204 

XIX. — "For Love is Master of All Arts” . . 217 

XX. — "Rejoice, Our Saviour He Was Born on 

Christmas Day in the Morning” . . . 230 

XXI. — ^In the Christmas Twilight 241 

vii 


LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS 


TACTSa 

PAGE 

*‘She stood close beside her mother . . . golden head rest- 
ing against her shoulder’^ .... Frontitpiece 

And stood holding a small parcel in his hand’* . . . 32'^ 

“Tad gave one bound and landed upon the step of the car- 
riage” 70 

“Sally took no more notice of him than if he had been a 

stray leaf” 94 


IX 



LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S 
NEW HOME 


CHAPTEE I 

WHAT HAPPENED AT LONG POINT 

Perhaps Mehitable Starbright loved tbe little 
girl whom she had christened “ Jemima,” and 
kept in her home for three long years, as well as 
it was possible for her to love any human being, 
and was more seriously distressed at her dis- 
appearance than anyone guessed. Subtly, but 
surely, during the past three years the leaven 
of the child’s refined, sunshiny disposition had 
crept into Mehitable’s soul, and stirred her bet- 
ter nature, for it would have been difficult for 
anyone, however harsh in character, to resist the 
little J emima’s influence. Mehitable Starbright 
was a good deal like a chestnut bur, all thorns 
and prickles on the outside, but hidden away 
within there was something soft and tender, if 
it could only be reached. A hard blow is need- 
1 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET^S NEW HOME 


ed to break through the chesnut bur, or a biting 
frost to burst it open, and with such a nature 
as Mehitable’s, sharp measures were needed to 
bring her to a realizing sense of her actions; 
self-will had carried all before it for years, and 
made her at thirty-three a woman whom no one 
loved and a good many cordially detested. 

From the moment Jemima disappeared from 
Long Point, Mehitable felt morally certain that 
Silas Oldham knew more of her whereabouts 
than he chose to tell, but she would have died 
sooner than go to him and ask openly, for she 
secretly felt a good deal in awe of the big, easy- 
going, kindly man whom everybody liked, and 
who won children’s love without any effort, as 
it seemed to her short-sighted mind. Mehitable 
had yet to learn how perfect a mirror is a 
child’s face, or how sensitive a plate a child’s 
soul. All her life she had longed for the smiles 
and love which Silas won on every hand, be- 
cause he went through life with a smile for 
every child he met, a merry word of greeting 
for old and young, and the tolerance of a broad 
mind for the opinions of his fellow-beings. 
Silas had gathered sunbeams for thirty-six 
2 


AT LONG POINT 


years, while Mehitable had been enveloping 
herself in clouds for thirty-three. 

The day following her arrival in Boston, 
Elizabeth Egelston wrote a brief letter to her 
mother, in which she gave a hurried account 
of the journey from Long Point and its happy 
termination. In the letter she promised a 
longer one to follow, and asked her mother to 
tell Silas Oldham that his beloved little Miss 
Cricket was safe and sound in her parents’ 
care. Mrs. Egelston’s relief upon the receipt 
of the letter was great, for her heart had been 
filled with misgivings, and the outcome of 
Elizabeth’s step into the wide world to search 
for the little girl’s rightful guardians seemed a 
most problematical one, so little did she have 
to guide her in the search. Mrs. Egelston did 
not, however, feel called upon to enlighten 
Mehitable Starbright at present, for, in com- 
mon with everyone in Long Point, she felt her 
to be entirely responsible for the anxiety and 
unhappiness she had brought upon herself and 
others. 

For the past few days Mehitable had ranged 
through the town like one bereft of her senses, 
3 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET’S NEW HOME 


and it was well for the happy little soul piping 
and singing in her Brookline home that she did 
not suspect the state of things in Long Point, 
or her songs would have been less gay. A few 
days later brought to Long Point the plate 
which Jemima had begged Miss Elizabeth to 
send to Aunt Mehitable, with a letter to tell of 
her remorse for what she considered her mis- 
deeds. The package was sent in Silas Oldham’s 
care and was delivered to him by the local 
carrier. Silas was out in his barn preparing 
a bran mash for Ben, whose equine digestive 
organs were somewhat deranged, when the 
package was handed to him. Seating himself 
upon an upturned butter firkin, he removed the 
outer wrappings which bore his address, and 
discovered Elizabeth Egelston’s hurriedly writ- 
ten note explaining why the plate was sent, and 
asking him to see that it was safely delivered 
to Mehitable. As he read the note his eyes 
grew suspiciously bright. When he had fin- 
ished reading he undid the second wrapping 
and looked long at the pretty little plate, many 
thoughts rushing through his brain as he 
did so. 


4 


AT LONG POINT 


Meanwhile Ben was standing near by watch- 
ing proceedings, and evidently wondering why 
the preparations for his dinner had ceased so 
suddenly. Presently Silas laid the plate upon 
a barrel near at hand, and looking up at the 
big horse, asked in a tone which Si’s horses 
rarely heard: 

“ Do you think that old crosspatch deserves 
this plate? ” 

Horses are extremely sensitive to a tone, and 
Ben instantly resented Si’s. Moreover, his 
nose told him that a most delectable feast was 
in the course of preparation for him, and he 
wanted it without further delay, cranky women, 
generous-hearted little girls, and painstaking 
young ladies nevertheless and notwithstanding. 
So when Silas fired otf his question so explo- 
sively Ben lost his temper, and stamping one 
huge forefoot upon the bam floor with a re- 
sounding bang, he shook his head sidewise 
three or four times. 

At this indubitable evidence of Mehitable’s 
unworthiness, Silas sprang to his feet, crying: 

By the great Jehoshaphat, even a horse has 
got sense enough ter know better’n that I ” and 
5 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


waved the letter so close to Ben’s nose that he 
regarded it as a danger signal and bolted for 
Ms stall. 

With a comical langh Silas came back to a 
realization of things, and, carefully wrapping 
the plate, rose to his feet and strode across the 
bam to place it in a little cupboard which he 
had fastened to the wall to hold his account 
books and various treasures. Placing the par- 
cel upon one of the shelves, he remarked: 

I guess you’ll be all safe in there fer a spell, 
and Mehitable’s chiney closet can git along 
’thout you ter set it off. At any rate, I’ve a no- 
tion it would tire me consider’ble ter walk way 
down ter her house jist this minit. Come on 
out, Ben, and git yer mash, if yer ain’t afraid 
of narvous indigestion.” 

And thus several more days slipped away 
without Mehitable learning anything of Je- 
mima. Then came Elizabeth Egelston’s prom- 
ised letter. Silas took it from the post office 
on his way home at noon time, but did not break 
its seal until his noon duties were performed, 
and Sally and Kate turned out to pasture. 
When this was done, he seated himself upon the 
6 


AT LONG POINT 


stump beneath the old apple tree, which had 
sheltered Jemima when Sally found her griev- 
ing for the little pet mouse, which had fallen 
a victim to Mehitable’s wrath. Then, drawing 
the plump letter from his pocket, he remarked : 

« ’Twern’t a mite er use ter try ter read this 
with a whole passel o’ folks ’round.” 

The minutes slipped by as Silas read on and 
on, for Elizabeth had much to tell, and knew 
how to draw a graphic picture of her flight 
with the little girl whom she and Silas had 
learned to love. She told of their journey to 
Boston, of the chance encounter upon the train, 
and at the railway terminal; later, of their 
visit to the shops, and the fateful walk in the 
Public Gardens and its joyful ending for her 
beloved little Miss Cricket; of the great hap- 
piness thus brought into Mr. and Mrs. Carey’s 
lives, and their gratitude to him for his share 
in bringing it to pass. She begged Silas to 
let Miss Starbright know that the little girl 
was now safe with her parents, and also to in- 
form her that in the course of a few days Mr. 
and Mrs. Carey, with their little daughter, whom 
he must in future know as Penelope Carey, 
2 7 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


would return to Long Point in order to have an 
interview with the woman who for three years 
had kept her in her home. During their visit 
at Long Point, Mr. and Mrs. Carey would be 
Mrs. Egelston’s guests. 

“I know quite well that you would rather 
avoid an interview with Miss Starbright,” con- 
cluded Elizabeth, “ but if you could realize the 
extent of Mr. and Mrs. Carey’s gratitude to 
you, I feel sure you would be willing to under- 
take a task even more unpleasant. I do not 
think it right to let Mr. and Mrs. Carey walk 
in upon Miss Starbright without preparing her 
for the meeting, for it will surely be an ordeal 
for all concerned.” 

Silas read on and on. At length he burst 
out: 

“ Thank the Lord! Yes, thank the Lord, and 
Amen I ” and then waved the letter above his 
head like a triumphant banner. “ Yes, yes ; jist 
so, jist so. Of course. Might a-known it, and 
I’ll bet Bawb’s right ear that before another 
week’s gone by Long Pint’ll have ’nough ter 
talk about ter keep every tongue in it a-clackin’ 
fer one round year. Blessed lamb, didn’t I 
8 


AT LONG POINT 


know it ! ” and at this point Silas gave a most 
emphatic wag to his great head with its abun- 
dant thatch of iron-gray hair. 

‘‘You can’t tell me,” he continued to Sally, 
who had approached at his soliloquy, and now 
stood regarding him sedately, as though wait- 
ing for his next observation, “you can’t tell 
me you can’t make a silk purse out of — No, 
no, that ain’t what I mean neither. Now, 
what’s the matter with my head? Turned clear 
hind-side-to with all this good news? La, what 
is it I want ter git at, anyhow? ‘ Can’t hide 
yer light under a bushel ’? No, that don’t fit, 
neither. ‘ Murder will out ’ ? Huh ! I sartin 
do believe that tarnal woman would a-near 
’bout murdered that child with harshness if 
she’d had the care of her a spell longer. T-sI 
T’s ” and Si brought his tongue and teeth 
together in a sound of impatience. “Lemme 
see — lemme see. What is it the song says? 
‘ You kin break, you kin smash the vase if yer 
want ter, but the smell o’ the roses will stick 
fast to it jist the same.’ Huh, that don’t sound 
’xactly right, somehow. Don’t seem ter hang 
together. Guess I ain’t no great shakes at 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


po’try. I do better at law and philanthropy. 
When it comes to rememberin’ rhymes I ain’t 
wnth a cent. But that’s the idee all right 
’nough, even if it don’t go dingerty, dingerty, 
ding, as the poet feller that wrote it meant it 
should. She’s a rose, sure ’nough; one o’ these 
little half-blowed pink ones, all smell and 
sweetness, and couldn’t live in no vase ’though 
it smelled sweet jist because she’d been in it. 
You could knock the vase all ter smithereens 
but you couldn’t git shet o’ the smell. Yes, 
siree, blood tells every time! That’s what I’m 
gettin’ at. Couldn’t tell me ! I knew it. Knew 
it the fust minit I clapped my eyes on her. 
‘ Cut o’ her jib,’ so ter speak. There’s a sight 
o’ difference ’twixt a clipper ship and a fishin’ 
smack. Any fool’d know that if he’d ever piped 
his eye beyond the end o’ Long Pint. Hehl 
Heh ! ” ended Si in a chuckle. My, but I’m 
gittin’ sort o’ mixed with my roses and my 
clipper ships, ain’t I, SaUy? But mixed or not 
mixed, this is the best news I’ve ever heard 
in all my born days, and that’s true as gospil. 
But what am I a-goin’ ter do ’thout that child? 
Didn’t know how she’d sort o’ twined all round 
10 


AT LONG POINT 

me ’till that mornin’ I was in such a tnrrible 
hurry to git her out o’ Long Pint. I kin feel 
her arms ’round my neck yit when I shut my 
eyes,” and the good man closed his eyes to 
go back in imagination to the hour when he 
bade little Jemima Starbright good-by forever, 
for in her place would come back to Long Point 
little Penelope Carey, restored to her heritage 
of love, home, parents, and all of which she 
had been deprived for three years. 

Presently Silas opened his eyes to look off 
across the fields to the blue waters of the har- 
bor, and out to the great bay beyond, whose 
waters stretched westward for miles, to at 
length wash the wharves of the great city 
which now held the little girl he loved so dearly, 
and whom he felt to be slipping out of his life 
into an entirely new world in which he could 
have no place ; a world filled with joys, delights, 
and luxuries such as his simple life could never 
know, and he could hardly picture. 

And how I’m a-goin’ ter miss her ! Gorry- 
a-mighty, how I’ll miss that little girl,” he 
murmured, as he folded the letter and placed 
it in his pocket. Then, rising to his feet, he 
11 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


added: “ ^TainT goin’ to be the same Long Pint 
’thont her, but I^m glad — yes — ^glad right down 
ter my very shoe soles, fer it^s right and 
proper, God bless her! And now Pve got ter 
go and have a whackin’-up talk with Mehitable, 
I s’pose. Wish I was a rabbit and could sneak 
out o’ sight in that hole yonder. Well, ’tain’t 
a mite er use ter groan, I dare say. There’s 
a dose o’ medicine to be took, and I’m the feller 
that’s got ter take it, but, by hookey. I’ll git 
my dinner fust. ’Tain’t no sort o’ use ter start 
a fight on an empty stomach. Good-by, Sally, 
old girl; mebbe you’ll need ter be introduced 
ter me when we meet again. Mehitable’s sort 
o’ snappy at times,” and oft strode Silas toward 
his house, where Mrs. Oldham had been wait- 
ing for the past hour to serve his dinner. 


12 


CHAPTEE n 


ceicket’s new wokld 

“ ‘Bright, bright poppies, of rich renown; 

Will you show me the way to Sleepy-town ** 

sang a beautiful soprano voice to the accom- 
paniment of a fine piano. It was a rich, sym- 
pathetic, and beautifully modulated voice, vi- 
brant of happiness as a bird’s. It rose, swelled, 
filled the great room in which the piano stood, 
and at the concluding lines of the song fell 
away into the tenderest cadences. 

The room was a very beautiful one, filled 
with rare and costly articles of furniture and 
art. Fine statuary was brought into sharp 
relief by the rich hangings, and paintings by 
celebrated artists adorned the walls. Pervad- 
ing all was the atmosphere of culture and com- 
fort, as though the room were the tangible ex- 
pression of the individuals who dwelt in that 
13 


LITTLE MISS CKICKET^S NEW HOME 


home. The late afternoon sunshine of a golden 
September day flooded the grounds beyond the 
open windows, and fell across the piazza upon 
which they opened, filling the room with a rich 
glow, and resting lovingly upon two figures at 
the piano, as though loath to leave anything 
so beautiful. No second glance would have 
been needed to confirm the most casual ob- 
server’s guess as to the relation of those two. 
Every line of the face and figure of the woman 
seated at the piano was repeated in miniature 
in the child standing beside her. She stood 
close beside her mother, with both arms clasped 
tightly about her waist, and her golden head 
resting against her shoulder. The close em- 
brace did not seem to embarrass the player’s 
motions in the least, but, on the contrary, to 
inspire her, for her head was bent toward the 
child as she sang, until her own snowy hair 
mingled with the sunny curls, and her face was 
radiant with happiness. 

No other sound than the sweet voice sing- 
ing in its rapture was heard, as line upon line 
and verse upon verse fell from the s mili ng 
lips; 


14 


CRICKET^S NEW WORLD 


And this way, that way, up and down; 

Nodded the beautiful, curly crown. 

As it gently seemed to say: 

! This way, this way, this way. 

Is the way to Sleepy-town/ 

As the last words, and their concluding notes, 
died away, the player’s hands were suddenly 
withdrawn from the keys, and her arms clasped 
rapturously about the little figure beside 
her, as she gave way to a low laugh, so full 
of joy that it was almost a sob, and ex- 
claimed : 

^‘My darling! My sweetheart! Mother’s 
own little Pen! Oh, it is too good to believe 
true. But it is, it is, it is I Don’t leave me a 
moment, darling. Don’t ! I couldn’t live with- 
out you now ! ” 

The child broke into joyous laughter, and 
springing into her mother’s arms, placed one 
little hand upon either side of her face and 
patted, and patted, and patted, as she kissed 
her eyes, her forehead, her lips, and then drew 
back to peer into her eyes. Finally, flinging 
her arms about her neck, she cried : 

“Never! Never! Never! Ne— ver! Pen 

15 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


couldn’t live without you either. She wants 
you every minute ; every little hit of a min- 
ute.” 

Then drawing back once more, but still keep- 
ing her hands upon her mother’s shoulders, she 
looked steadily into her face for a full minute, 
a slight shade of dismay passing over her own 
fairylike one as she looked. 

What is it, darling? ” 

“Your dress! I’ve rumpled it all up; the 
trimmin’ ’s all mussed,” and the little “ Jemima 
Starbright ” whom we used to know at Long 
Point suddenly replaced the happy little Penel- 
ope Carey who had come to live once more in 
the home where she was born, but which, to 
her, was an entirely new one, for only the faint- 
est memories of her early surroundings re- 
mained to her. Her nursery, with its sunny, 
rose-embowered windows, and everything in it 
was as familiar to her upon her return to it 
as though she had left it only the day before, 
but there her memories ended. 

Yes, the little maid who had slipped so com- 
pletely out of that home had come back to it, 
and there had also come with her that which 
16 


CRICKET^S NEW WORLD 

caused a pang to cross her mother’s heart 
whenever she saw evidence of it: a fear of 
older people, and a terror of misbehaving. 
The three years with Mehitable had deeply im- 
planted and steadily nourished this, and what 
three more years under such a guidance, and 
in such an atmosphere, might have brought to 
pass would fill a thoughtful observer with ap- 
prehension to picture. Much time and patience 
would be needed to undo the unfortunate les- 
sons Jemima Starbright ” had learned, and to 
develop in little Penelope Carey an abiding 
faith in those older than herself, and belief in 
their love for her. 

“Why, my little Pen,” said Mrs. Carey 
gently, “do you think mother minds a slight 
rumpling when she has her dear little girl to 
love her again? Mother would rather have 
twenty gowns rumpled than see such a look of 
dismay come upon your face,” and Mrs. Carey 
held Penelope close, as she ran her fingers 
through her curly hair. 

“ But they take such a sight o’ time to maA:e, 
and cost, oh, lots and lots ; Aunt Mehitable says 
so,” persisted Penelope. 

17 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


Mrs. Carey broke into a low laugh as she 
asked : 

‘^Do they, sweetheart? 0 my funny, little 
old lady. Well, don’t you think daddy will 
buy me a new gown if this one is spoiled by 
your dear little arms? I think he would be 
glad to do so, because he knows how xmhappy 
I have been all these years without you, and 
how rejoiced I am to have you home once more. 
I am quite sure he would rather buy me a great 
many new gowns than ever have me so grieved 
again.” 

‘‘Would he, truly?” asked Penelope seri- 
ously. 

“ Truly,” repeated Mrs. Carey. 

“ And if he buys you a new one now Fll help 
you to make it!” cried Penelope. “I can sew. 
I sewed three quilts for Aunt Mehitable; all 
little, tweenty-weenty patches. Sometimes I 
pricked my finger. Right there, see? There’s 
just a little speck of a place yet,” and the first 
finger of her left hand was held up for her 
mother’s inspection. Mrs. Carey took the mis- 
used little finger, laid her cheek against it a 
moment, then kissed it gently as she said: 

18 


CRICKET’S NEW WORLD 


‘^Poor, little badly treated finger,” and her 
eyes filled. 

‘‘ Oh, it don’t hurt me cried Penelope 

hastily. It hurt dreadful when I did it, and 
I got blood on the patchwork; Aunt Mehitable 
said I was as clumsy as a cow, and I had to 
take that block all out and put in a new one. 
But I’ll sew just as careful as can be if you 
have to make a new dress, and take such little, 
wee stitches, oh, so little you can’t hardly see 
’em,” and she nodded to emphasize her promise. 

I think I’ve found a little fairy,” said Mrs. 
Carey seriously. A dear, busy, helpful little 
fairy. But she will not have to help make 
mother’s gowns, because some one else does 
all that work.” 

^‘Do they? Who?” asked Penelope. 

“The dressmakers, dear.” 

“Do they like to? ” 

“I hope so. That is the way they earn 
money to live, and if I let you help make my 
gowns they could not earn the money, you see. 
So I think we’d best let them do the work, don’t 
you?” 

“ Why, yes,” said Penelope thoughtfully, 
19 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


Then after a moment added very soberly: 
‘‘ They couldn’t buy tea and sugar and butter 
if they didn’t have money, could they? ” 

“ No,” answered Mrs. Carey, and then waited 
for what would follow, for this lately recovered 
little daughter was a never-ending source of 
wonder to her, and many times of pain, owing 
to the glimpses which sie constantly gave of 
the three years in Mehitable Starbright’s home 
which were a revelation to both Mr. and Mrs. 
Carey. More than once had their hearts beat 
with resentment toward the woman who had 
so dealt with their little child, yet many times 
were they forced to admit that her character 
had undoubtedly been strengthened by the very 
experiences which so shocked them. Still, they 
rejoiced to know that those experiences had 
been brought to an end. A certain degree of 
bitterness emphasizes the sweet; an overdose 
is ruinous. 

Presently Penelope said: 

“Well, I guess I won’t make the — gowns,” 
and wagged her head as though the decision 
were final. The word “ gown ” had been sub- 
stituted for dress in imitation of Mrs. Carey. 

20 


CRICKET^S NEW WORLD 


Have you ever seen a week-old chick scratch 
in imitation of the mother hen? 

Then came another pause, while the busy 
little brain did some more thinking. 

‘‘Aunt Mehitable makes her dr — gowns. 
And it takes her an awful long time to make 
one. She sits all down in a little heap — just 
like this,” and Penelope scrooched down to 
show Mehitable’s position. 

“Hasn’t she a sewing machine like the one 
in mother’s sewing room, dear? ” asked Mrs. 
Carey, more with the object of leading the child 
on than a vital interest in Mehitable’ s welfare. 

“No, she hasn’t a hit of a one. Not a bit. 
Isn’t that too bad?” asked Penelope sympa- 
thetically. 

“ Yes, it really is. Perhaps some day we may 
ask daddy to buy one for her. Would that 
please you?” asked Mrs. Carey, inwardly con- 
vinced that Mr. Carey would be little inclined 
to shower favors upon Mehitable, but ready to 
please Penelope with the suggestion. 

“Oh, would he?” cried the child eagerly. 
“ Then some day when I know him — oh — ^know 
him lots, just like I know you, and Mr. Si, and 
21 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET’S NEW HOME 

Miss ’Lizabeth, so I can tell him things — ^I^m 
— I^m going to ask him to buy Aunt Mehitable a 
sewing machine just like yours.” 

Don’t you know him ‘lots’ now, dear?” 
asked Mrs. Carey softly. 

Penelope paused for a moment before an- 
swering. 

“Yes, I know he’s daddy,” she began hesi- 
tatingly, “and I love him. But I don’t love 
him far enough yet ; I guess I don’t know how 
far I can love him. But I’m going to,” she 
added quickly, as she noticed a slight shadow 
fall across Mrs. Carey’s face. “I’m going to 
quick as ever I can ; I’m going to love him ’way 
far down, right in heref^ and she clasped both 
hands across her heart. “ You know that’s how 
you love people when you’ve been with ’em a 
long, long time, and you see ’em every day, and 
they smile at you, and their eyes look nice, and 
their words don’t — don’t — don’t — ^make — ^make 
— the — the — cross come,” concluded poor little 
Penelope rather desperately, for she was get- 
ting into deep waters while striving to put 
into words that indefinable feeling of harmony 
and confidence which alone can stand as the 
22 


CRICKET’S NEW WORLD 


foundation of love, and which many an older 
person has striven in vain to analyze. 

“ I think he will be glad to wait, darling,” 
said Mrs. Carey. Such a love is well worth 
waiting for. But now it is time for daddy to 
come home from Boston. You know we are 
going to Long Point to-morrow with Miss Eliz- 
abeth, and daddy will have many things to 
arrange for the journey. So come with me out 
into the garden to watch for him,” and hand 
in hand Mrs. Carey and Penelope stepped 
through the open window and out onto the 
broad piazza. It was a dainty little figure 
which a moment later went skipping across the 
lawn, for the two weeks spent in the new home 
had wrought a marvelous change in the “ Je- 
mima Starhright” of Long Point. The pretty 
little white frock, with its delicate embroideries, 
the little white shoes and stockings, and the hows 
of sheeny blue satin ribbon against the golden 
hair, emphasized the child’s beauty. 

The past two weeks had been eventful ones 
to little Penelope, and more than once she had 
exclaimed at the purchase of some garment 
which seemed to her a rash extravagance for 
3 23 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


Miss Mehitable’s late charge was a frugal- 
minded little soul, and, certainly. Miss Mehit- 
able had not catered to vanity. “ J emima 
Starbright ” had been an object of commisera- 
tion to every mother in Long Point, where gar- 
ments were of the simplest design, and many 
a woman had expressed her indignation that 
the pretty child should be made so conspicuous 
by such unsightly, ill-chosen clothing. 

Mrs. Carey had made haste to supply more 
fitting wearing apparel, and a pretty, service- 
able wardrobe was at once procured. 

The tall privet hedge prevented them from 
seeing Mr. Carey until he turned in at the gate- 
way, and when he did so little Penelope’s heart 
began to beat wildly, for with him came some- 
thing which nearly caused her to scream for 
joy: Mr. Carey led by a chain a huge St. Ber- 
nard dog whose benign expression was almost 
human. 

As he drew near he called out: 

“ And how is my sweetheart! Don’t be afraid 
of King; he will not hurt you, but has come 
to be your playfellow and take care of you. 
Come here and let me introduce him to you,” 
24 


CRICKET’S NEW WORLD 


and he held out his arms to Penelope, who ran 
straight into them and was lifted up and 
clasped to his breast with the eagerness born 
of long deprivation. Then stepping close to 
his wife, he placed his arm about her, saying 
very gently as he did so : 

The new love must not thrust aside the 
old one, dear. The white hairs have a stronger 
claim even than the golden ones,” and rested 
his lips for a brief moment upon her fore- 
head. 

Now, little Sunlight,” he continued, speak 
to King,” and he placed Penelope upon the 
ground. The big dog looked at her gravely 
for a moment as he sat upon the grass, then 
lifted one huge forepaw and sedately placed it 
upon her shoulder, thereby proclaiming his 
friendship for the new little mistress. Never 
before in all her life had Penelope touched a 
dog, surprising as this may seem. But the old 
love for Sally, and Bunny, her black kitten. 
Frisky, and the little robin, and the yearning 
in the childish heart for a pet had not lessened 
any. So she promptly did the one thing most 
natural for her to do — clasped both arms about 
25 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


the big, shaggy neck and hugged King as hard 
as ever she could, crying: 

‘‘Oh, you’re mine, mine, mine to love, and 
they won’t take you away from me et;er,” there- 
by instantly winning a friend who later made 
her a noble requital. 


26 


CHAPTEE III 


mehitable’s sifting 

The golden September sunshine rested upon 
all the land, touching into gorgeous coloring 
every growing thing now in the fullness* of 
fruition. The ‘^yellow, mellow, ripening days” 
of the year had come, bringing with them the 
sense of rest and peace which follows upon 
work well done, as though Mother Nature were 
resting after her months of effort, and could 
now look upon the results thereof. 

Out in the harbor the water lay calm as a 
mill pond; beyond Wood^s Shoal the ocean, 
dotted here and there with dories, and other 
fishing boats, sparkled and scintilated in the 
sunlight of that golden noontide. On shore 
lay a restful hush broken only by the inces- 
sant chiel of the crickets hopping in myriads 
through the dry grasses, or the call of the 
blue jays in the woods beyond. 

27 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET’S NEW HOME 

Silence itself seemed to envelop Mehitable 
Starbright^s home, for no human being was 
in sight near it. A few hens scratched and 
clucked in a subdued manner out by the barn, 
but no other living creatures were to be seen. 
The only cheerful objects about the place were 
the flowers blooming in the September sun- 
shine. On either side of the path which led 
from the front gate to the back door great crim- 
son, yellow, and white dahlias nodded a greet- 
ing to whomsoever happened to brush against 
their stalks. Close to the house tall cosmos 
plants, crowned with purple, white, or pale 
violet blossoms waved temptingly, as though 
begging to be gathered and placed in a bowl 
to brighten some one’s room with their fairy- 
like daintiness, while just beneath them the 
asters tried to rival their richness of bloom. 

Mehitable’s fondness for flowers had always 
been a source of wonder to her neighbors ; there 
seemed so little in common between her nature 
and their beauty. Nevertheless, each year she 
planted her seeds and her bulbs, and each year 
they throve and flourished, bearing more pro- 
lifically than the plants which many of her 
28 


MEHITABLE’S SIFTING 


neighbors tended with infinite care; for, the 
planting once done, Mehitable apparently gave 
her posy beds no further thought, but let the 
plants grow and bloom at their own sweet wills. 
It was a matter of considerable speculation to 
many why she planted at all, for she never 
looked upon the flowers, much less gathered 
them, and they for a certainty wasted their 
sweetness upon the desert air so far as she was 
concerned. 

However, nothing good is ever entirely lost 
in this world, and if Mehitable was quite indif- 
ferent to the beauty of her blooming, old-fash- 
ioned garden, there were many who were not, 
and she unwittingly gave pleasure to others. 
To little “Jemima” Miss Starbright’s posy 
beds had been an endless delight, although she 
had never dared touch a single flower. Yet 
many and many a time had her little nose borne 
testimony to the deep-drawn sniffs she had 
taken of their sweetness by the liberal coating 
of pollen they had shaken upon it. 

But the fairylike little creature who for three 
years had danced and sung about that old gar- 
den, the very saving grace of — I had almost 
29 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


said ‘‘home,” yet there was very little of the 
true home element about Mehitable’s dwelling 
place — ^had slipped out of it as mysteriously 
as she had appeared in it three years before, 
and the woman who was responsible for her 
coming and passing was living through many 
bitter hours. On this perfect noonday she sat 
in her kitchen with her elbows resting upon 
the table, and her face buried in her hands. 
She had just finished her midday meal, and the 
table still held the dishes she had used. At 
the opposite side of the room stood a child’s 
high chair; upon a peg just above it hung a 
little pink gingham sunbonnet ; on a small work- 
table in one corner lay a long strip of patch- 
work, a tiny thimble beside it, and a needle 
sticking in the work, as though it had but lately 
been laid aside. It was now more than two 
weeks since Jemima had disappeared. 

Not a sound was to be heard about the house, 
and from the tightly closed shutters of every 
room save the kitchen one might have fancied 
the place deserted. Presently the front gate 
slammed, and the tramp, tramp, tramp of a 
man’s footfalls sounded upon the path over 
30 


MEHITABLE’S SIFTING 


which the dahlias nodded. If Mehitable heard 
the footfalls she gave no sign, and a moment 
later Silas Oldham, a hig red dahlia in his but- 
tonhole, stood in the doorway. His keen eyes 
instantly saw and imderstood everything, but 
he did not betray that fact as he advanced into 
the room, removed his soft-felt hat, and stood 
holding it and a small parcel in his hand. 
Mehitable glanced up as he entered, but except- 
ing that she shut her lips more tightly together 
than usual, if that were possible, and reared 
herself into a rigidly erect position, she gave 
no indication of surprise at her unusual vis- 
itor’s presence. 

Good day,” said Silas, with a nod. 

‘‘ Uhm,” responded Mehitable, with a jerk of 
her head, and waited further developments. 

Thought I’d better come up and see yer and 
talk a spell. Besides, I’ve a message and some- 
thing to deliver which I didn’t think right ter 
delay any longer,” said Silas. 

He still stood near the door, and Mehitable 
seemed quite satisfied to have him remain just 
where he was. At any rate, she did not ask 
him to be seated. But if she thought to dis- 
31 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


concert him she was greatly mistaken. That 
big, easy-going, good-natured man had a far 
stronger will than her own, although, like all 
great forces, it required more to stir it. 

^‘Yes,” continued Silas, “Pve been a-tryin’ 
ter git up ter see yer fer more’n ten days, but 
business has been sort o’ brisk, and, somehow, 
I didn’t get round to it. Queer, ain’t it, how 
days kin sort o’ slide right out o’ the calendar 
and leave a man guessin’ where they’re gone 
ter?” 

Still absolute silence upon Mehitable’s part, 
although her steely eyes never for an instant 
left Silas’s face, and she grew a trifle paler. 
That an ordeal was before her she felt instinct- 
ively, and also realized that Silas was not likely 
to spare her. 

Silas’s next move was to leisurely cross the 
room, draw up a chair exactly opposite Mehit- 
able, and seat himself upon it. The strong 
light from the sunny garden fell full upon her, 
making it impossible for her to conceal any 
change of expression from him, while he had 
the advantage of being back to the window. 
Very deliberately he laid his hat upon the floor 
32 



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MEHITABLE’S SIFTING 


beside him, and then held toward Mehitable 
the package he carried, saying as he did so : 

^‘Penelope sent this in my care and asked 
me to see that you got it. Sorry I couldn’t a 
fetched it sooner.” Silas’s tone was as serene 
as the waters of the harbor. 

“ Who? ” The word was almost shrieked at 
him. 

“Penelope,” repeated Si calmly. That he 
pronounced the name Pen-e-lope, never in 
his life having heard it, and consequently di- 
vided the syllables according to his own idea 
of division, did not lessen its effect upon its 
hearer. 

Who do you mean? What are you a-talkin’ 
about ? What are you tryin’ to tell me ? ” cried 
Mehitable in a voice rendered more than usu- 
ally strident by excitement. 

“ Wull,” drawled Silas, returning Mehitable’ s 
stare with interest, “ I s’pose I am sorter be- 
ginnin’ my story at the wrong end, but then, 
I never did set out ter be no story-teller. I 
oughter a-said Jemima, I s’pose, fer that’s the 
only name you^ve ever known her by. But 
’course ’tain’t her name, an’ never was, no 
33 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


more’n it’s yours nor mine. Don’t fit her, an’ 
never did, any more’n a sailor’s shirt fits a mar- 
line spike ; anybody could see that. But hadn’t 
you better open your bundle? I sorter guess 
that’ll tell the fust part of what I’ve set out ter 
tell better’n I can tell it, for I guess likely 
you know her reason fer sendin’ you a plate 
better’n I do ; I can’t see no sort ’er reason in 
it myself, ” and Silas nodded and waved his 
hand toward the package he had given Mehit- 
able, and then settled back in his chair. 

What do you know about Jemima? Where 
is she?” demanded Mehitable. 

“ Op-en yer bun-dle,” said Si. 

With trembling fingers Mehitable unfastened 
the string, and removing the paper from the 
pretty plate, looked at it steadily a moment, 
while her lips twitched with nervousness. She 
then laid the plate upon the table and took up 
the note bearing Silas’s address. 

This ain’t for me,” she snapped, as she 
tossed it across the table to him. 

“ Don’t hesitate ter read it on that account. 
It was sent to me, but since it’s about you I 
think you’re entitled ter know the contents,” 
34 


MEHITABLE’S SIFTING 


and the note was tossed back with a little more 
force than it had come. 

Mehitable snatched it up, jerked the letter 
from its envelope, and began to read. Before 
she had finished she burst out : 

^‘I Tcnew it! I knew it from the very first 
minit! I knew no good could come o’ that 
highty-tighty’s visitin’ here. I knew she’d put 
the very old boy and all into Jemima’s head. 
And now she’s ended by stealin’ her! Yes, 
stealin’ her, and I’ll ” 

‘‘Now keep cool; keep cool,” interrupted Si. 
“ ’Tain’t a mite er use ter get excited. We ain’t 
to the end o’ the story by a long sight yet.” 

But Mehitable was beyond keeping cool, and 
cried : 

“ ‘ Keep cool ! ’ What do you mean by darin’ 
to come into my house, Silas Oldham, and 
a-talkin’ to me this way? Ain’t Jemima Star- 
bright my child, and ain’t I raised her from a 
mere baby? And ain’t I cared for her and 
done for her, and ain’t she beholdin’ to me for 
every blessed thing she’s had for more’n three 
years? And now comes along this stuck-up, 
smirkin’, smilin’ huzzy and beguiles her right 
35 


LITTLE MISS CKICKET’S NEW HOME 


out o’ my house, and carries her right off from 
under my very eyes. I knew! I knew well 
enough ! Needn’t tell me. If I hadn’t a-felt so 
sure Jemima was with that Egelston girl I’d 
a lost my reason. I tell you it’s stealin’ ; down- 
right stealin’.” 

Mehitable paused for lack of breath, and 
Silas took advantage of the opportunity to put 
in a telling word or two. 

“ Wull, if it comes ter a question of stealin’, 
otherwise known as abduction, I’ve a notion I 
wouldn’t press matters too far, if I was in your 
shoes, Mehitable. I’m told there’s a pretty 
heavy penalty fer such doin’s. You might sort 
er find you’d been a-playin’ with one o’ these 
boomerang things they tell me the natives out 
in Australy handle so slick, but which raise the 
very old Ned with folks who ain’t used to ’em. 
I’m afraid you’d git a turrible black eye, so 
ter speak. Now I’ve got a little speech ter 
make, and if you’ll take my advice you’ll listen 
to it, and if yer know which side your bread’s 
buttered, you’ll profit by what you’ll hear. I 
ain’t here fer fun; no, nor no high-strikes, 
neither, and if yer don’t listen ter me as yer’d 
36 


MEHITABLE’S SIFTING 


oughter, by the Lord Harry Vve got nothin’ 
more nor less to do than ter make yer, for 
hear me you shalll Now take yer choice 
quick. You’ve had your own way fer thirty- 
three years, and if you haven’t made things 
hum now and again, no female critter ever did. 
Now, fer about an hour or so yer’re a-goin’ ter 
have my way.” 

Silas had risen from his chair while speak- 
ing and strode over to the door. He placed 
his hand upon the key and stood ready to turn 
it. No one would have recognized in this erect, 
determined-looking man, whose deep gray eyes 
were flashing with righteous indignation, and 
whose whole manner bespoke resolution, the 
usual easy-going Silas Oldham. 

Mehitable sprang to her feet and grasped the 
back of her chair with both hands, breathing 
hard as she glared at Silas like a creature 
brought to bay. 


37 


CHAPTER IV 


MEHITABLE MEETS HER MATCH 

Now, see here, Mehitable,” began Silas, his 
voice vibrating with repressed emotion, I 
haven’t come here to do any bnll-raging, nor 
to take a high and mighty stand with you. I’ve 
come to talk down-right, sound, common sense, 
and by some means or other make you listen 
to it. I don’t want to set myself up for a 
model, ’cause I could never be that to anybody, 
but I can say a few things right here and now 
that you’ll do well to listen to. Now, will you 
sit down in that chair and pay heed to me like 
a sensible woman, or have I got to stand up 
here barrin’ the door to make you heed me? 
It’s a thing I don’t want to do a mite, but if it’s 
got to be done, why I’ll just have to do it, that’s 
all.” 

Silas paused for her reply. 

During his speech Mehitable had not moved 

38 


MEHITABLE MEETS HER MATCH 


from her position behind the chair, and only 
her trembling hands and white face betrayed 
her emotion. The silence grew oppressive. 
Out in the yard a rooster crowed lustily; within 
the room the tall, old-fashioned clock upon the 
high mantel ticked loudly. 

“And s’pose I wonH listen to you? S’pose 
I order you out o’ my house?” Mehitable’s 
voice was low and tense. 

“Huh! A sight o’ good that would do, 
wouldn’t it? I’m here to stay until I’ve said 
my say, and the sooner you make up your 
mind to that fact the better,” answered Silas 
very determinedly. Then, changing suddenly 
to his ordinary tone, he continued : “ Oh, see 
here, Mehitable, sit down and quit actin’ like 
a fool. We’ve had enough of this nonsense. 
If you only knew it I’m a sight more your 
friend than your foe, for I’ve come to tell you 
that unless you take a word of advice right 
now you may find yourself in a place where it 
won’t be as easy for you to get out as it will be 
from this kitchen, when I’ve done talkin’.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” demanded Mehitable 
in a strange voice. 

4 


39 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


“ Just Exactly what Pm sayin’. But sit down ; 
Tve had enough of this,” and Silas motioned 
to the chair by which Mehitable was standing, 
then leaving his position in front of the door 
resumed his own seat. Mehitable slid into 
hers. 

‘‘ There’s been queer doin’s in this town fer 
more’n three years, Mehitable,” resumed Silas 
lapsing back into his old habitual Yankee 
drawl, when for became “ fer ” and you “ yer,” 
for only when intensely in earnest did Silas 
recognize any grammatical laws, and those who 
knew him best, best loved the old, slurring 
speech which seemed so much a part of Si him- 
self. He often said: “When I get up a full- 
fledged row I talk English, but when I’m talkin’ 
to my friends. Cape Cod’s good enough ter let 
’em know I think ’em ’bout right.” “I don’t 
know whether you’ve realized jist how queer 
or not. That’s what I’ve come up here ter find 
out this afternoon, and just ’xactly what I’ve 
got ter be sure of before I can talk sense. I 
know, and everybody else knows, that what 
you’ve been a-tellin’ about that little girl hasn’t 
a word o’ truth in it. But 1 know more’n most 
40 


MEHITABLE MEETS HER MATCH 


folks do; Tve known more all along, but IVe 
gained a sight o’ wisdom lately, which makes 
me thank the Lord more’n ever that I put her 

on that train fer Boston ” 

Then you were at the bottom of it, were 
you?” broke in Mehitable, with some of her 
old asperity. 

“Yes,” answered Silas, “I’m thankful ter 
the bottom o’ my soul ter say I was, and pres- 
ently I’ll tell yer all about it, and a heap more 
besides. But first I want yer ter tell me a thing 
or two. To begin with, how come yer by that 
child? ” 

“ None o’ your business ! ” snapped out 
Mehitable. 

“ Quit it ! ” thundered Silas, bringing his 
clenched hand down upon the table with a force 
which caused the dishes to skip and Mehitable 
to shrink back in dismay. Si’s eyes were 
blazing, and the woman before him began to 
realize what she was confronting. He did not 
repeat his question, but looked steadily at 
her. 

“I brought her home when I came from 
Boston,” she said in a low voice. 

41 


LITTLE MISS CBICKET’S NEW HOME 


Yes, I know that. But where did you get 
her? 

Several seconds passed before Mehitable re- 
plied : 

“I saved her from being washed overboard 
from the boat that day. ” 

Then came another pause. 

‘‘Yes?” said Silas interrogatively. 

“ Well, if you will have it, I s’pose you must ! 
You’ve got the upper hand now, Silas Oldham, 
but you mark my word. I’ll get even with you 
’fore I’m done. I’ll tell you the whole story 
from beginnin’ to end, and then I guess you’ll 
understand that I’m not such a blackened 
sinner as you seem to think I am. But I’ll get 
even just the same ; you see if I don’t, ” and 
Mehitable repressed her lips and shook her 
head threateningly. 

“I don’t care a hill o’ beans how even yer 
get ; what I want now is the whole story straight 
and clear. We’ll settle the score later.” 

Clasping her hands before her upon the table, 
Mehitable looked Silas straight in the eyes 
and began: 

“ I was cornin’ home that day, and when we 
42 


MEHITABLE MEETS HER MATCH 


left Boston there weren’t a bit of sea a-rnnnin’ ; 
not nntil we got well under weigh, for an hour 
or more, maybe, we didn’t have a sign o’ rough 
weather, that most people would see. I saw 
it, though. I’ve lived too many years on this 
point not to see the signs and read ’em, too. 
Well, the passengers didn’t, and they were 
laughin’ and talkin’ and havin’ great times. I 
sat outside on the after deck with my back 
against the cabin, and just a little way from 
me sat a lady with the prettiest child I’d ever 
seen. She didn’t seem shy of anybody, but 
kept runnin’ up and down the deck, singin’ and 
laughin’ and smilin’ at everybody. And every 
little while she’d run to her mother and throw 
herself upon her lap and laugh and look as 
happy as a kitten. And her mother would put 
her arms around the little thing and hug her 
as though there weren’t anything on the wide 
earth she loved so much. Two or three times 
as she ran by me she stopped, looked at me a 
minute with her great brown eyes, smiled, and 
then, givin’ a little skip, ran on. Silas Oldham, 
do you know what it meant to me to have that 
child smile at me? Ao, you don’t; for you’re 
43 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


a man. She was the first child that had ever 
smiled at me in all my life! Plenty of ’em had 
frowned at me; lots of ’em had looked scared 
to death; and a good many had made faces 
at me. But that little girl smiled, and when 
she did it something inside of me gave way, 
and the first thing I knew I was a-smilin’, too. 
Then away she went just like a butterfly, for 
all the world. Next time she came skippin’ 
along she stopped right stock still in front of 
me and looked at me a full minute ’thout a 
single word, and then — then — Silas, she flung 
herself into my lap just as she had upon her 
mother’s and said in a voice I’ll never forget 
to my dyin’ day : ‘ I love you, too ! I love, love, 
love you! Little Pen loves everybody \ ^ and 
clasped her arms right around my waist. Well, 
I s’pose I made a fool of myself right then and 
there, but I don’t care if I did. There weren’t 
many people on deck by that time, for the wind 
had begun to kick up a fuss, and the passen- 
gers had gone into the cabin. Her mother saw 
me pick the little thing up into my arms and 
hug her near about hard enough to kill her, I 
s’pose. I hardly knew what I did, and the tears 
44 


MEHITABLE MEETS HER MATCH 


were just a-pourin’ down my cheeks; but I 
didn’t know that either, then. Her mother got 
up and came over to us, and said in the sweet- 
est voice I ever heard from a woman’s lips: 
‘I think you must love children very dearly, 
or you would not win them so readily. Have 
you little ones of your own? We women have 
a royal kingdom in our motherhood, have we 
not?’ Si, I looked at that woman, but I 
couldn’t speak one word to save my life. 
I just buried my face in that child’s golden 
head and cried like a baby. And do you know 
what the little thing did? She put her little 
arms right tight around my neck and kissed 
me, and said : ‘ Don’t cry ; don’t cry ; little Pen 
will love you hard, hard,^ And her mother 
rested her hand upon my shoulder and said: 
‘I fear I have unintentionally touched an old 
wound. Forgive me.’ Silas Oldham, do you 
know what that woman thought? I do. She 
thought I had lost a little child of my own, 
and I wouldn’t have let her believe any differ- 
ent for all the gold in the universe. It was the 
first time in all my life that any woman had 
ever given me the privilege of entering into 
45 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


the heaven in which she dwelt as a mother. 
Of ever believing that Z, Hitty Starbright, who 
had been called a crank, a tartar, a virago, and 
an old maid by other women, could have in me 
a woman’s love for children or that I could 
long to have children of my own. My heart 
was nearer breakin’ that minute than it had 
ever been in all my life, and it has come pretty 
close to it more’n once, let me tell you, although 
I’d a-died sooner’n let the world suspect it.” 

Mehitable paused here, and got up from her 
chair to pace the room rapidly a few times. 
Silas’s face had softened wonderfully while 
she was speaking, and this change seemed to 
give her strength to go on. Presently she re- 
sumed her seat and continued her story more 
quietly. 

“Well, I quit actin’ like a fool after a few 
minutes, and tried to say somethin’ to change 
the subject. Pretty soon the boat got to pitchin’ 
like a cork, and in less’n no time the very old 
Nick and all was to pay. I’ve been across this 
bay a good many times, but I’ve never met 
with any such storm as that, and I never ex- 
pected to reach Long Point no more’n I ex- 
46 


MEHITABLE MEETS HEB MATCH 


pected to reach France. To see that woman 
was a sight ! She didnT say one word, but she 
was as white as death, and that little child was 
every bit as brave as her mother. She never 
gave a whimper, but hid her face against her 
mother’s shoulder. Well, the end came as we 
were rounding Wood’s Shoal. We three were 
standing near together when that wave struck 
the boat. I just remember flinging my arm 
around a stanchion when I heard a low cry 
which I’ve heard a thousand times since — the 
most heart-broken cry I’ve ever heard in all 
my life. Then, Silas Oldham, the very same 
wave that carried her mother over the rail 
hurled that little child right into my arms, and, 
oh, my God, how I clung to her! That great 
wall of green water fairly tugged at her, but 
I remember crying : ‘ No, you shan’t have her ! 
you shan’t ! ’ and holdin’ on with ten times more 
strength than I thought I could. 

“ You’ve heard all about that day a hundred 
times over. You know all that happened to the 
boat, but, Silas, you don't know that God gave 
me a little child that day. And do you think 
I’d a let her go? Do you think anyone could 
47 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


a-tom her from me? For three years Tve 
lived in constant terror that some one would. 
There hasn’t been a minute’s peace in my life, 
and sometimes I haven’t known whether I loved 
that child or hated her; I’ve been so tortured 
by fear. 

But it has all been a mockery after all. I 
didn’t know how to win her love when I’d got 
her, much less hold it. I tried to. I even 
prayed to know how. Why didn’t the Lord 
answer that prayer, Silas? What is the mat- 
ter with me? Why am I so buffeted about? 
What have I done to deserve such handling? 
I don’t know, I don’t know. And now here is 
the end. I’ve had three years of lookin’ into 
paradise, but couldn’t enter. But I’m hungry 
for it, I’m hungry. Oh, it is cruel — cruel, ” 
and, with a bitter sob, Mehitable laid her arms 
upon the table before her and buried her face 
in them as dry, heart-breaking sobs told of her 
misery. 


48 


CHAPTER Y 


NEMESIS 

PooE Mehitable Starbright ! From a tiny 
child she had been self-willed, and determined 
to have her own way at all costs to herself or 
others. 

And now, at thirty-three years of age, what 
did life hold for her? Only a long record of 
disappointments, the natural outcome of a self- 
will which had carried all before it like a whirl- 
wind. 

Silas Oldham sat looking at the miserable 
woman before him, and like a vision the years 
of her life seemed revealed to him. He did not 
speak for some time for there seemed so little 
for him to say. After a while he got up, and 
walking around to her side of the table, rested 
his great strong hand kindly upon her shoulder, 
saying in a tone very unlike that he had used 
49 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


to lay down the law to her only a short time 
before : 

“I wouldnT feel so terribly, Hitty. The 
clouds have blowed in pretty heavy, I know, 
and the sea’s runnin’ mighty high just now. 
But you know what’s sure to foller the wust 
storm that ever blew. Brace up, that’s a good 
girl, and listen ter what I’ve got ter tell yer. 
It’ll be a sight o’ comfort. I’ll wager all I’m 
wuth.” 

Then drawing his handkerchief from his 
pocket, he blew his nose like the resurrection 
trump. 

The sense of humor, and the capacity for 
suffering, each the result of that highly strung 
New England temperament, are only separated 
by a hair in the children of that coast. At 
Si’s blast Mehitable started up, looked at him 
a second, and then laughed outright. Silas 
did not see the humorous side of the situation 
at all, and looked somewhat disconcerted, for he 
began to suspect that Mehitable was losing her 
reason. 

“AVell, I s’pose,” said Mehitable, “that I 
may as well laugh as cry, but did you think I 
50 


NEMESIS 


needed a little hint o’ Gabriel’s trump to bring 
me back to my senses?” 

“ Good Lord ! ” exclaimed Silas and broke 
into a laugh which might have rivaled a school- 
boy’s, for the past hour had been a severer 
strain upon his nerves than anyone could have 
believed, and this little flash of sunlight, break- 
ing through the gloom, brought with it a relief 
out of all proportion to the cause. It is invari- 
ably the woman who recovers her self-pos- 
session first, and when Si’s laugh subsided Me- 
hitable said : 

“ Now I want to hear all you have to tell me. 
Si. Sit down and we’ll talk like sane folks. 
I guess I’ve had a lesson and maybe I deserved 
it. But now to the point.” 

She motioned Silas to his chair and settled 
back into her own, with her hands clasped 
loosely upon the table in front of her. 

With a colossal sigh of relief Silas resumed 
his seat. 

I s’pose I’ve got ter go back ter the very 
beginnin’,” he said, “ fer it ain’t a mite ’er use 
fer me ter try ter do things like other folks. 
It’s a long story, but it must be told.” 

51 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET^S NEW HOME 


For an hour Silas talked steadily. Begin- 
ning his narrative from the moment he first 
saw Penelope leave the Constance Hopkins 
with Mehitable, he followed np the events of 
the past three years with an accuracy of detail 
which astonished his listener, who, in common 
with many other persons, had never suspected 
Silas Oldham’s powers of observation and de- 
duction. He did not spare himself in any par- 
ticular, but told in a straightforward manner 
exactly what he had done, and the means he 
had employed to gain the information he 
wished. He told of his plot to get Penelope 
away from Mehitable’s influence, and exactly 
why he felt it his duty to do so. 

“And you needn’t tell me the good Lord 
didn’t have the whole engineerin’ o’ that job, 
and I weren’t doin’ nothin’ in this world but 
a-firin’ fer Him. No human power could a led 
that little child right straight inter her moth- 
er’s arms ; it needed God Almighty.” 

“ Her MOTHER 1 ” Mehitable turned whiter 
than the tablecloth before her as she wailed 
forth that one word, and started from her 
chair. 


52 


NEMESIS 


“Yes, she was a-sittin’ right there in the 
Public Garden, and that little thing went up 
to her as you an^ I have seen her go up ter 
people a hundred times, said Silas, his voice 
vibrating with satisfaction. 

“And she wasn’t drowned?” asked Mehit- 
able in an awe-struck voice. 

“ Thank the good Lord, who had her in His 
care, NO ! ” cried Silas fervently. Then re- 
suming his story, he told of Mrs. Carey’s res- 
cue as Elizabeth Egelston had written the 
account of it to him. 

Mehitable did not interrupt him again, and 
the moments were ticked away as Silas told all 
he knew of the Careys. 

“ And that is why I came here to-day, Mehit- 
able. They are all cornin’ down to Long Point 
in a few days, and it didn’t seem right ter let 
^em all fall in upon yer without a bit o’ warnin’. 
I’m free ter confess that I weren’t a-breakin’ 
my heart about yer, for I was madder at yer 
when I come inter this kitchen than I’ve ever 
been in all these three years. But, by the great 
horn spoon, I couldn’t see yer bowled com- 
pletely over ’thout givin’ yer one chance ter 
53 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


clear yerself if yer could. An’ ye’ve pretty 
nigh done it, sartin sure. You’ve said ’nough 
ter make me respect yer as long as yer live, and 
be yer friend as long as I do. It weren’t all 
pure cussedness as I suspected, but a sight 
nigher a heart-break. I see it all now, and I 
hope and pray that the good Lord may see 
His way ter bring inter yer life a blessin’ which 
will clean wipe out all the sorror that’s come 
ter yer. Amen.” 

Silas’s voice trembled as he spoke the last 
words, and he reached his hand across the table 
to take Mehitable’s. The hand she laid in the 
big warm one was as cold as ice. Silas 
grasped it with a force which might have made 
her wince had she been more sensible to phys- 
ical suffering, but she only smiled sadly and 
looked at him in a dazed manner. Silas grew 
troubled and said: 

“Now brace up, Hitty. The worst is over, 
and little Cricket is cornin’ back. La, that’s 
enough ter tickle us both nigh ’bout ter death.” 

“ And she has been alive all these years, and 
grieving her heart out for her little girl ! Three 
whole years of sufferin’, and 1 the whole cause ! 
54 


NEMESIS 


1 who would die for her to-morrow if it could 
blot out the memory of her misery. The only 
woman who ever let me come into her kingdom. 
The only woman who ever spoke to me as 
though I had a heart instead of a stone in my 
breast. I have kept her from her little girl. 
I have nearly broken her heart when one word 
from me might have spared her. But I thought 
she was drowned. I thought the sea had taken 
her, and given her little girl to me. May God 
Almighty forgive me, but I can never, never 
forgive myself. Silas Oldham, I cannot en- 
dure this agony of spirit! I cannot! I can- 
not ! ” and with a low moaning cry Mehitable 
Starbright fell forward upon the table un- 
conscious. 

Silas sprang to his feet and rushed to her 
side. Quickly lifting her he carried her into 
the little bedroom off the kitchen, and laid her 
upon the bed. Eunning back to the kitchen, he 
hastily pumped some water into the tin dipper 
and hurried with it to Mehitable’s side. When 
his efforts proved unavailing, he grew thor- 
oughly alarmed. Neighbors were near at hand 
and Silas hurried to ask their aid. They came 
5 55 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 

speedily, but nothing seemed to avail to recall 
Mehitable from that deathlike faint. 

“1^11 go fetch the doctor and mother,’’ said 
Silas, and presently good Dr. West and Mrs. 
Oldham were upon the scene. But several 
hours passed before Mehitable knew those 
about her, and even then her mind seemed piti- 
fully weak. The strain of the past three years, 
the critical events of the past two weeks, and 
the excitement under which she had recently 
labored, had done their work most etfectually, 
and while the little child who had brought into 
her life the keenest joy and the bitterest sor- 
row she had ever experienced was dancing and 
singing about her beautiful Brookline home, 
talking incessantly of “ Aunt Mehitable,” 
“Bunny,” the chickens and “Mr. Si,” and lay- 
ing a hundred little plans for the approaching 
return to Long Point, Mehitable Starbright 
was either dead to everything happening about 
her, or talking wildly about “Jemima.” 

They were anxious days for those who cared 
for her so faithfully, and Mehitable had more 
friends about her in her adversity than she 
had ever known in sunnier times. Mrs. Old- 
56 


NEMESIS 


ham and Silas were tireless. Mrs. Oldham at 
once took up her quarters at Mehitable’s cot- 
tage, and Silas gravitated between the two 
homes, for his horses, the cats, and ^^Bawb” 
must be looked to, and, incidentally, told the 
whole story over and over again, for Silas 
would have exploded without a safety valve of 
some sort, and these four-footed friends were 
safe confidants, and never betrayed him. 

“ Do you know what’s a-goin’ ter happen ter 
yer, yer little, yaller-eyed imp o’ mischief? ” 
asked Si, as he plucked Bunny from his shoul- 
der where the kitten had swarmed the moment 
Silas sat down in front of his kitchen table 
where Bunny’s dinner was about to be pre- 
pared. ^‘I’ll tell yer. Yer’re goin’ ter live 
’mongst the aristocracy, an’ get a swelled head 
like a-nough. That’s what happens ter a sight 
o’ country folks when they’re took ter town. 
But you just keep level-headed, if yer can, an’ 
don’t come down here some day with yer little 
black nose cocked up in the air, never knowin’ 
yer old friends. Do you hear me? ” 

Me-ro-ro-ow, ” warbled Bunny, and rubbed 
himself against Si’s arm as it rested upon the 
57 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


table where he had placed the kitten to lecture 
it. 

‘^Is that blarney?” demanded Si. Bunny 
warbled again. 

^‘I guess it’s honest Injun, and you’re all 
right,” said Silas laughing, as he picked up 
the kitten and placed it upon the floor, where 
a moment later it was lost to all the world in 
a bowl of milk, and Si went his way to give 
Bawb his daily tubbing. 


58 


CHAPTER VI 


^^YEB won’t see YER BEAU NO MORE ! ” 

‘‘An’ yer won’t see yer beau, yer won’t see 
yer beau, yer won’t see yer beau no more! 
Ain’t I glad ! Ain’t I glad I Ain’t I glad, glad, 
glad ! ” shrieked Sally Fielder, dancing up and 
down like a little demon, but keeping far enough 
away from Tad Putnam to make good her 
escape in case of a sudden onslaught from 
him. 

Tad, Sally and half a dozen other children 
had just come tearing pell-mell from the school- 
house across the road, for it was noon hour, or, 
more correctly speaking, noon hour and a half, 
for Long Point still clung to old methods; 
school began at half past eight in the morning 
and held session until twelve. Then came an 
intermission of an hour and a half while the 
pupils went their various ways to their homes ; 
some of these more than a mile away. But 
59 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


nothing was thought of the long walks to and 
fro, and a sturdier, heartier, happier lot of 
youngsters it would have been hard to find. 

The fall term had begun a few days after Je- 
mima Starbright’s disappearance from Long 
Point, and, of course, the news spread through 
the school like wildfire, for in some mysterious 
manner the pupils had learned that Jemima 
was to have been one of them this year. Only 
a hint was needed to spread any sort of news 
in Long Point, and Mehitable’s call upon the 
principal, Mr. Halpin, one evening a short time 
before had been quite sufficient to set tongues 
a-wagging, so keen was Long Point’s interest 
in everything pertaining to Mehitable and Je- 
mima. 

Tad Putnam’s boyish heart had always 
throbbed with mingled pity for Jemima and 
resentment toward Mehitable, whom, in com- 
mon with all the other children in the town, 
he cordially detested. Although considerably 
Jemima’s senior. Tad’s chivalrous spirit was 
touched by Jemima’s unhappy lot, for every 
child in Long Point was alive to this. 

Sally Fielder had always been one of Mehit- 
60 


“YER WON’T SEE YER BEAU” 

able Starbright’s especial aversions, and as 
Sally was, to put it mildly, not deeply beloved 
by anybody in Long Point, it is not surprising 
that two natures such as hers and Mehitable’s 
struck sparks when they came in contact. Tad 
Putnam Mehitable might have liked had she 
liked any boy, for he was too independent and 
sturdy a little chap to fear her, as many of the 
other children did, and too well bred to be dis- 
courteous to her. Tad came of good old New 
England stock, and his father would have made 
a brilliant mark in the world had not a chain of 
circumstances forced him to change all his 
plans for the future just at the moment that 
future seemed most promising. During his 
early manhood, while still a sophomore at Har- 
vard, his father’s sudden death, and his mother’s 
invalid condition necessitated his return to 
Long Point to become the support of the 
family. He was offered, and accepted, a posi- 
tion in the Long Point Bank, lately established, 
and in the course of time was made its cashier. 
Not a very lucrative position, it is true, but it 
seemed the only thing to do just then, and he 
hoped that time would bring with it greater 
61 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


success. As the years slipped by, however, 
everything seemed to conspire to hold him in 
his native town. Positions had been offered 
him elsewhere, but he felt that his duty lay at 
home. His mother had been born in the house 
in which they lived, and to take her from her 
familiar surroundings would have been like 
uprooting an ivy plant which many years had 
made part and parcel of its surroundings. A 
few years after his father’s death Nathaniel 
Putnam married a Long Point girl, thus form- 
ing even a stronger bond with the little town. 
Tad and a little daughter, four years Tad’s 
junior, were the offspring of this marriage. 

Ever since Tad’s championship of Jemima 
that early morning a few weeks before, Sally 
had entertained the liveliest animosity for him, 
and gibed and jeered at him upon all occasions. 
In her secret soul Sally admired Tad im- 
mensely, and would have given her fingers and 
toes to be made the object of his favors, to 
have him walk to school by her side, play tag 
with her, or manifest any preference whatso- 
ever for her society. It is needless to add that 
SaUy did not appeal to Tad, and the fact that 
62 


YER WON’T SEE YER BEAU” 


Jemima Starbright did, promptly made Je- 
mima the object of Sally’s hatred. 

Poor little Sally Fielder was not the first 
child who has been forced to work ont in her 
own little world the destiny decreed for her 
by her parents, and all the while imconscionsly 
chafe against the inevitable. 

Sally was by no means a fool. On the con- 
trary, she was pronounced “smarter’n chain 
lightnin’ ” by a good many Long Pointers. 
But she was like a high-spirited, unbroken colt 
and just about as much to be depended upon. 

If, however, anyone had hinted to Sally that 
she secretly envied Jemima her sweetness and 
gentleness, or that they felt convinced that she, 
Sally, would give almost anything to be able to 
win others as Jemima won them, she would 
promptly have made a hideous face at that in- 
dividual. But the fact remained, nevertheless. 

Consequently, Sally lost no opportunity for 
tormenting Tad in the presence of others, and 
the hour when school was dismissed was a royal 
one, for then there were sure to be plenty of 
eager eyes and ears. 

But Tad took no notice of her taunts this 
63 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


morning as he walked away with some of his 
chums. Sally, however, had no notion of let- 
ting him escape her so easily. Following as 
close behind him as she dared she continued to 
shout : 

“Yer don’t know where yer beau is I Yer 
don’t know where yer beau is ! No, yer don’t ! 
No, yer don’t ! No, yer don’t ! ” 

‘^Do youV^ demanded Tad, turning so sud- 
denly upon the astonished Sally that she 
nearly fell over backward. But Sally, after 
all, was no coward, and, unhappily, was so ac- 
customed to sudden onslaughts that she was 
usually on the lookout for them. Neverthe- 
less, her arm was instantly raised to protect 
her face. 

Tad gave a sort of snort of derision as he 
cried : 

“Huh! Do you think I’d hit a girl?” 

“ You did once,” retorted Sally. 

“ I didn’t ! ” denied Tad hotly. “ I just held 
you tight fast and made you walk into the 
brook, and it served you right good too. And 
if you don’t take care I’ll walk you right up to 
Si’s and see what Jie^ll say to you for talking 
64 


YER WOFT SEE YER BEAU’’ 


about Jemima Starbrigbt,” and Tad’s eyes bad 
a forbidding light in them. 

Now it so happened that SUas Oldham was 
the one person in Long Point for whom Sally 
entertained either fear or respect. Not be- 
cause Silas had ever been harsh with her, for, 
on the contrary, he was the only individual who 
ever greeted her kindly. Nevertheless, way 
down within her lawless little heart, Sally felt 
that it would never do to trifle with Silas. He 
had a wonderful control over children and 
animals. 

So at Tad’s threat Sally quailed slightly, and 
answered rather sullenly: 

‘‘ I wouldn’t tell you if I did know where she 
is.” 

Oh, get out ! ” was Tad’s boyish retort. 

^‘1 know more’n you think, anyhow,” per- 
sisted Sally, giving her head a tantalizing 
duck. 

‘‘What do you know? Ah, do tell us,” 
cried a chorus of voices, for the children of 
Long Point, in coromon with their elders, were 
consumed with a wild desire to learn something 
of Jemima. 


65 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


She don’t know a single thing,” broke in 
Tad. It’s all her talk.” 

^‘I do, too!” snapped Sally. “I know it 
’cause ma told us. She went up to Miss Star- 
bright’s ter help Miss Oldham take care of her, 
an’ she heard Miss Starbright say that Miss 
Egelston had stole Jemima, an’ she was a-goin’ 
ter make a survant-gurl of her, an’ she’d have 
ter scrub, an’ wash dishes, an’ work, oh, awful 
hard, an’ wouldn’t never be let ter go out, nor 
do nothin’, an’ Miss Egelston kep a big, green 
dragon in her shed, an’ if Jemima weren’t a 
good gurl she’d let him eat her, — so, there 
now,” ended Sally triumphantly, wagging her 
head and screwing her mouth into a dozen 
shapes in order to duly impress her audience. 

Sally’s imagination was a very lively one, 
and she did not hesitate to embellish the few 
facts which her mother had related as the re- 
sult of her one day spent at Mehitable’s cottage 
aiding Mrs. Oldham in caring for the sufferer 
during her delirium. 

‘‘Fiddlesticks!” cried Tad, bursting into a 
derisive laugh. 

“ ’Tis true, too,” screamed Sally. “ Miss 
66 


YEE WON’T SEE YER BEAU 


Egelston has an awful big house, an’ lots an’ 
lots of survant-gurls, an’ that’s what she does 
to ’em when they don’t mind her. Ma said 
so.” 

“ Oh, you and your mother are both crazy, I 
guess,” was Tad’s retort to this new flight. 

Go ’long home, you silly. I’ll bet that if you 
ever see Jemima Starbright again you’ll be so 
flabbergasted you won’t be able to breathe. If 
she is with Miss Egelston you just bet she will 
be all right. Dragons! Bosh! Oh, say, you 
are, ain’t you'? ” and Tad’s tone was withering 
in its scorn. 

“ Well, I don’t care, you won’t see your beau 
no more, so there now. She’s gone an’ won’t 
never come back,” was Sally’s last fling. 

Tad made a dart at his tormentor, and Sally 
fled. Why she was not killed the next instant 
only the special providence which guards the 
reckless can explain, for as she rushed away, 
Silas’s surrey, with Kate swinging along at a 
good round trot, turned suddenly round the 
comer of the road which led to the railway 
station, and the next instant Sally .was under 
the mare’s very feet. 


67 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


“ Gosh-a-mighty ! Look out ! Take care ! 
You’ll be run over you little wild cat,” shouted 
Silas in a voice loud enough to bring the dead 
to their senses, and poor Kate was pulled 
nearly upon her haunches. 

Those in the surrey broke into cries of dis- 
may, and the gentleman who sat beside Silas 
sprang out to rush to Sally’s rescue. Catching 
the child up in his arms he carried her from 
harm’s way and laid her upon the grass by the 
roadside, while the occupants of the surrey 
leaned forward to learn the extent of her in- 
juries, and Silas endeavored to restore the 
excited Kate to her usually placid frame of 
mind. How Sally had escaped being crushed 
to death under the mare’s feet seemed a very 
miracle, but escape she had, and excepting the 
coating of dust which made her resemble a 
moth miller, she was as good as ever. 

Eh, little girl, but you had a close call that 
time,” said Mr. Carey, helping the trembling 
Sally into an upright position, and vigorously 
brushing the dust from her garments. 

Are you sure she is not injured, Everett? 
asked Mrs. Carey with deep concern. 

68 


‘‘YER WON’T SEE YER BEAU” 


‘‘Perfectly sure. Not even a scratch, have 
yon, little girl? Mr. Oldham pulled up so 
quickly that she wasn’t touched. You are all 
right now, aren’t you! There, don’t cry now 
that it is all over,” said Mr. Carey kindly, as 
he stroked her hair soothingly,, for Sally had 
begun to dig her fists into her eyes and 
whimper. 

Of course the other children had gathered 
about her. Tad most eager of all to serve, for 
his conscience smote him a trifle. Just then 
Miss Egelston spied him, and called from the 
surrey : 

“ Why, how do you do. Tad! I didn’t notice 
you before. And, of course, nobody but Sally 
Fielder could have such a hair-breadth escape 
as this. Good gracious, Sally, do you bear a 
charmed life! What was the last escapade I 
heard about! The tumble through Mr. Week’s 
barn floor! Or have there been a dozen others 
since that one!” and Miss Egelston gave way 
to a merry peal of laughter. 

“ You couldn’t kill a Fielder if yer set out ter, 
Miss Elizabeth,” cried Silas. “ Cats have nine 
lives, but a Fielder’s got nineteen. I reckon 
69 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


she’s all right now, Mr. Carey, an’ we can go 
’long. Look after Sally, Tad,” and Silas 
cranked the surrey wheel for Mr. Carey to 
enter the vehicle more readily. Tad looked up 
as Silas spoke, and gave a regular Indian war 
whoop, for looking at him from the back seat 
of the surrey was Jemima Starbright. A 
transformed Jemima, it is true, but the same 
smiling little Jemima he had been so fond of. 
Forgetting all else in his delight. Tad gave one 
bound and landed upon the step of the carriage, 
shouting in a hearty boyish voice: 

‘‘Hello, Jemima! Where’ve you been?” 

At Tad’s words Sally’s recovery was miracu- 
lous. Her wailing ceased instantly, and turn- 
ing toward the surrey she stared open-eyed and 
open-mouthed at the apparition she fancied she 
saw there. So astounded was she that she for- 
got to close her mouth, and there is no telling 
what might have found harborage within it had 
not memories of the horrible green dragon ob- 
truded themselves upon her. 

“Oh! oh — ^h! Oh — h, s-a-y! It didn’t git 
yer, did it? An’ where’d yer git all them 

things? Oh, say, — ain’t you — ain’t you ?” 

70 



y> 


“Tad gave one bound and landed upon the step of the carriage 






“YER WON’T SEE YER BEAU” 


and the words died away in amazement as Sally 
drew closer to the snrrey to make sure that her 
eyes had not deceived her. 

But this was too much for Miss Egelston, and 
peal upon peal of laughter rang out upon the 
autumn air. It acted like an electric shock 
upon Sally. With a final scream of : 

‘‘She weren’t et up! She weren’t et up! 
I’m goin’ quick ter tell ma,” the child fled down 
the road as though the dreaded green dragon 
were in hot pursuit. 


6 


71 


CHAPTER VII 


THE CKIOKET^S CHIEF 

When Sally’s spindle legs vanislied around 
the corner and the laugh at her expense had 
subsided, Tad took up his question just where 
he had dropped it. 

“ Where’ ve you been, Jemima? My, but 
ain’t I glad to see you! We didn’t know what 
had happened to you,” and his boyish face 
beamed with genuine pleasure. 

“I went with Miss ’Lizabeth; I went up to 
live with mother ; I live with mother and daddy 
now; I got lost ever so long ago, and I’ve just 
got found again ; I’m not going to live in Long 
Point any more, only little whiles, to see Aunt 
Mehitable and Mr. Si, and — and — you] and 
Bunny’s going back to live in mother’s big house 
with me, ’cause she said so, and I’ve got a big, 
big, dog named King, and he won’t eat Bunny up 
neither, and I want you to come to see me, ’cause 
72 


THE CRICKET’S CHIRP 


mother says she wants children to come to see 
me, and — and — ” and here little Penelope’s 
voice failed her simply because breath would 
not come fast enough. 

As she talked Tad’s eyes had grown bigger 
and bigger until it seemed as though they must 
pop out, and his head was turned so rapidly 
from the back seat of the surrey to the front 
that one wondered why it did not shake off 
altogether. Mrs. Carey’s smile would have 
won any laddie’s heart, and Mr. Carey’s kindly 
look as he watched the two children was all 
that was needed to put Tad quite at his ease. 
There were no words needed to express Eliza- 
beth Egelston’s joy, and Silas looked positively 
foolish with happiness. 

“ La ! ” he burst out, are we a-goin’ ter 
stand here all mornin’ a-tellin’ that every- 
thing’s lovely and the goose hangs high? Hop 
in, Tad, an’ do your talkin’ as we drive ’long. 
I’ve got ter git these folks up to Miss ’Liza- 
beth’s some time ter day, and it’s right ’long 
your way.” 

Ain’t we going to Aunt Mehitable’s, Mr. 
Si? ” asked Penelope. 

73 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


La, yes, duckie, all in good time,” an- 
swered Silas, as an odd expression came into 
his eyes. ^^Why be you in such a burry ter 
git back there ? Bunny ain’t there now ; he’s up 
at my bouse, and gittin’ so fat you won’t know 
him.” 

But Aunt Mebitable is there,” persisted 
Penelope. “ She’ll want to see me, and I guess 
she hasn’t got anybody to help her do things 
now,” and a wise little nod helped to convey the 
extent of her doubt on that score. 

Tad was not slow to accept the invitation to 
“hop in” and managed somehow to squeeze 
himself into the small space between Penelope’s 
toes and the front seat, from which post of van- 
tage he could feast his eyes upon her, and at the 
same time “ size up ” Mrs. Carey, whose smile 
had already won his heart. 

Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Carey had felt it wise to 
go to Miss Starbright’s home before having a 
long talk with Silas Oldham, and it was late in 
the afternoon when they set out for the house 
which for more than three years had been their 
little girl’s home. 

It was with many conflicting emotions that 
74 


THE CRICKET’S CHIRP 


they approached it, for true to his word to be 
Mehitable’s friend as long as he lived, Silas had 
told her story, and told it with greater force and 
pathos than he realized. In his way Silas was an 
orator, for his big, warm heart supplied what he 
lacked in power of expression. Mrs. Carey, 
with a woman’s subtle intuition, was quick to 
grasp the situation and supply many details 
which Silas left untold. 

Silas’s mother was still with Mehitable whose 
condition baffled her skill at nursing, and caused 
the good woman much concern. Cases of nerv- 
ous prostration were rare in Long Point, where 
the ills were generally of the body rather than 
the mind. In vain had the good doctor and Mrs. 
Oldham striven to bring Miss Starbright back 
to a realization of things around her. Nearly as 
white as the pillow upon which she lay, Mehit- 
able rested quietly, though quite impassive to 
the ministrations of the friends who came to her 
aid in her trials, although she had seemed to 
have so few before. 

As they walked up the pathway, with little 
Pen running eagerly on ahead of them, Mr. and 
Mrs. Carey closely scanned the house which had 
75 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


been their little girPs home, their hearts mean- 
while throbbing rapidly. 

Mrs. Oldham admitted them, Silas making 
some excuse to leave them. 

“ She won’t speak to a soul,” said Silas’s moth- 
er, as she ushered them into the best par- 
lor,” swept and garnished for their reception. 
While opening the blinds and placing flowers in 
one of the huge china vases that morning, Mrs. 
Oldham had more than once glanced over her 
shoulder with the feeling that she was engaged 
in some questionable act, and liable to have 
Mehitable stalk in upon her at any moment. 
People were not given to taking liberties in Me- 
hitable’s home. 

“I am sorry to hear it,” said Mrs. Carey. 
“ But we may be able to do something for her 
nevertheless.” 

Humph,” was Mrs. Oldham’s comment, as 
she looked keenly at Mrs. Carey with eyes so 
exactly like Si’s that Mrs. Carey could not re- 
frain from smiling. ^‘So you feel called upon, 
too, do you? Well, there’s some that mightn’t — 
all considered. Howsoever, we’ll let the Lord 
straighten out this snarl. I reckon, ’tain’t much 
76 


THE CRICKET’S CHIRP 


use for us to set ourselves up for more’n we be. 
Come here, lamb, aud let me feast my eyes on 
you,” she added, dropping her portly self upon 
a chair and extending both hands to Penelope. 

Pen gave one bound and landed on her moth- 
erly lap, where she was held tightly. Then 
holding the little girl from her at arm’s length, 
Mrs. Oldham asked : 

“ Can you tell me, what Long Point’s a-goin’ 
to do without youl ” 

“ But it hasn’t got to, I’m right here,” cried 
Pen. 

‘‘Lands’ sake, yes; you be here now, but 
where’ll you be next week? ” said the kind soul. 

Cocking her head to one side. Pen rested two 
delicate little hands upon Mrs. Oldham’s ample 
shoulders and peered into her face, while a 
rather baffled look overspread her own little 
wild-rose one. 

“ Why — ^why — ^why,” she began, then paused. 

“Well?” interrogated Mrs. Oldham 

“ Why, I’m just mixed in my mind,” said Pen. 
“You see, it’s this way. This is Aunt Mehit- 
able’s house and she’s all alone with nobody to 
take care of her. And she took care of me ever 
77 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


and ever so long when mother and daddy 
thought I was all lost. So maybe I ought to 
live with her. But you see — ” and here the 
little maid hurried on more rapidly, “you see 
mother and daddy lost me such a long, long 
time that they got dreadful lonesome too, and 
I’m afraid they’d he lonesomer than Aunt Me- 
hitahle if I didn’t go home with them. And 
then there’s King. King wouldn’t know what 
to do if I didn’t come hack. So I guess I’ll have 
to go hack for a little while anyway. I tell you 
what I guess will he the best way; I’ll stay 
this week here, and next week home, and the 
next week here, and the next week home, and 
the next week — ^where will I he by that time? ” 
cried this poor little Yankee Persephone, now 
quite out of her hearings. 

“ Just wherever I am, sweetheart,” exclaimed 
Mr. Carey, catching her up in his arms and 
holding her close. “Daddy and mother can’t 
spare you again. But now, Mrs. Oldham, I 
think we’d better see your patient, if possible. 
Suppose you let Pen go in to see her first.” 

“Yes, I guess maybe you’ve sensed the best 
plan,” said Mrs. Oldham, rising from her seat. 

78 


THE CRICKET’S CHIRP 


“ Run along, little cricket, and see Miss Star- 
bright. You know your way ’round this house 
all right enough.” 

Penelope needed no second bidding. Her 
little feet had traversed that narrow hall too 
many times not to know every inch of it. Lightly 
as a thistledown she skipped along it, turned into 
the familiar kitchen and crossed to the door lead- 
ing to Mehitable’s bedroom, where she paused 
to peep in. 

Mehitable gave no sign that she was aware of 
her presence, and, believing her asleep, Pen crept 
noiselessly to the side of the bed. The others 
had followed her into the kitchen and now waited 
the outcome of the child’s next move. Mrs. 
Carey stood close to the bedroom door as though 
she dreaded to let the child from her sight. 

Aunt Mehitable ! ” whispered Pen softly, but 
Mehitable did not respond. 

Pen tiptoed to the pillow and, resting one 
little hand on Mehitable’s face, repeated: 

Aunt Mehitable ” ; adding softly, “ I’ve come 
back to see you. Aunt Mehitable.” 

Slowly the closed eyelids raised. Vacantly 
the weary eyes rested upon the beautiful little 
79 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET^S NEW HOME 


face so close to the pillow. Waveringly Mehit- 
able’s hand stole up and clasped the small one 
resting upon her cheek. 

‘‘Ifs me, Annt Mehitahle. Don’t you know 
me? Are you so sleepy? It’s Pen — little Penel- 
ope — Jemima,” concluded Pen, troubled lest 
Mehitahle should fail to recognize her by the 
new name. 

The name seemed to unlock Mehitable’s dulled 
senses, for, suddenly sitting bolt upright, she 
cried out: 

“Jemima! Jemima Starbright! My baby! 
My little Jemima!” and catching the child up 
into her arms the poor overwrought woman 
burst into a storm of sobs. It was nature’s best 
remedy for her strained nerves. Pen clasped 
her arms tightly about her and soothed and 
patted like the gentle little soul she was. Mrs. 
Carey hurried in and, dropping upon her knees 
beside the bed, clasped her arms about both. 
Mr. Carey closed the door leading into the 
little bedroom, feeling that such a scene must 
not be lightly looked upon. 

For more than an hour the murmur of voices 
told of confessions made, actions made plain and 
80 


THE CRICKET^S CHIRP 


forgiveness asked and granted. Then the door 
was opened and Mrs. Carey, leading Pen by the 
hand, came out. Her face showed deep emotion, 
but a serene smile told that the storm had passed 
and that sunlight was breaking. Pen^s little 
rosebud face also showed traces of tears, but the 
child^s happy little soul could not long remain 
depressed. She held her mother^s hand close to 
her cheek, now and again kissing it softly, as 
though to convey comfort by the caress. 

“ I think we will go back now, Everett,^^ said 
Mrs. Carey gently. “ Good-by, Mrs. Oldham. 
We will call again to-morrow to see Miss Star- 
bright, and please let us know if we can serve 
in any way whatever. I think Miss Starbright 
would like to speak to you, so we will go at 
once,” and out from that low-ceiled kitchen 
passed a gracious soul, destined to transform 
another soul that for years had lived in a state 
of rebellion against all that was best in a world 
full of happiness for the taking. 

For six days the Careys remained at Mrs. 
Egelston^s cottage, and Long Point’s tongues 
clattered like mill-clappers. Penelope was be- 
side herself with joy, and flitted in and out of 
81 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET’S NEW HOME 


Mehitable’s cottage like a very lively sunbeam. 
Mr. and Mrs. Carey had to visit with her every 
haunt she had loved; the old barn, where the 
robin had built a nest; the attic where Frisky 
had lived and piped his merry tune ; the old or- 
chard, where they became intimately acquainted 
with Sally and Kate, and the woods beyond 
where the birds and the crickets sang and 
chirped. 

But just before they left for Brookline came 
the star event of all. Mr. Carey, who usually 
managed to discover all the resources of what- 
ever place he happened to be in, and who had al- 
ready discovered in Tad’s father an old class- 
mate, came into Mr. Egelston’s cottage one 
afternoon with an odd smile upon his lips as 
he asked: 

‘‘ WhoTl join me in a voyage upon the high 
seas to-morrow ? ” 

‘‘ I think we would better learn the direction 
and object of this voyage before we commit our- 
selves, don’t you, Mrs. Egelston?” answered 
Mrs. Carey. 

“ I’m afraid I’ll not make a very good Jack 
Tar,” was Mrs. Egelston’s laughing reply. 

82 


THE CRICKET^S CHIRP 


^‘What is it, daddy! cried Pen, springing 
into her father’s lap. 

Mr. Carey rested his cheek against hers for 
a moment before replying, then said ; 

^^IVe been prowling about the Commercial 
Wharf, and have made a discovery. Ned Slo- 
cum’s yacht is anchored down there, waiting to 
take some provisions up to Boston. Ned thinks 
Long Point village is the only spot on the face 
of the earth where mackerel can be properly 
salted. I’ve been talking with Todd, the sailing 
master, and he wants us to go off with him for 
a little trip to-morrow. Says Slocum would 
never forgive him if he failed to place the yacht 
at Mrs. Carey’s service. Will you go! I’ll see 
that Mrs. Egelston is landed aboard all safe and 
sound. Silas can fix that for us. But who else 
shall it be! The yacht will accommodate a 
pretty big party.” 

Is it the big, big white one we saw yester- 
day!” asked Pen. 

“ The very same, sweetheart. Will you go 
on it with daddy! And who would you like 
to ask to go with you ! ” asked Mr. Carey, little 
guessing Pen’s fertility of resource. 

83 


CHAPTER VIII 


SALLY FIELDEE GOES A-VOYAGING 

Oh ! Oh ! 0 — o — oh ! ” cried Penelope, 
clasping her hands together in rapture. “ Can 
I ask everybody I want to 1 ” 

“ Well,” replied Mr. Carey, his eyes beginning 
to twinkle with amusement, ‘‘a good many 
bodies, I think. Suppose you give me their 
names and tell me where they live.” 

But you know where Aunt Mehitable lives? ” 
cried Pen, looking at Mr. Carey in surprise at 
his want of perception, for, in her opinion. Aunt 
Mehitable must, of course, head the list. 

‘‘Aunt Mehitable,” repeated Mr. Carey in a 
rather doubtful tone. “Aunt Mehitable? Do 
you think she is strong enough for such a sea 
trip, mother? I should be a little afraid to take 
her, shouldn’t you?” and Mr. Carey looked at 
his wife as though he felt pretty sure she would 
take the broad hint his tone implied; 

84 


SALLY GOES A-VOYAGING 


But sometlimg of the old spirit of fun had 
come hack to his wife since the little daughter’s 
return, and her lips twitched a trifle although 
she said quite seriously: 

« Why, I am sure I should he charmed 
to have Miss Starhright make one of the party. 
W'ouldn’t you, Miss Egelston? ” 

“ WLy, certainly,” agreed Elizabeth, then 
broke into a merry laugh at sight of Mr. Carey’s 
defeated expression. 

Meanwhile Penelope looked from one face 
to the other, quite bewildered by the effect of 
her suggestion. 

‘‘ Is she too sick to go, daddy? ” she asked. 

“I’m afraid so, sweetheart, I’m afraid so. 
I don’t believe we’d better try it,” replied Mr. 
Carey quickly, while he shook his head at his 
tormentors. 

“Well, I must think hard then,” resumed 
Pen. “Let me see. Shall we ask Tad? and 
Mr. Si and Mrs. Si and Nicolo? You know. 
Miss ’Lizabeth, he gave me the sample piece of 
watermelon, ever so long ago. And Bunny, and 
Katy, and — and — all the children who’d like to 
go,” she ended, spreading out her arms as 
85 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


though to embrace the population of Long 
Point. 

‘‘ Whew ! ” whistled Mr. Carey. “ I’m afraid 
we’d sink the yacht if we did that. How many 
children do you suppose there are in Long 
Point? ” 

I guess maybe one hundred,” answered Pen 
seriously. 

“I wouldn’t wonder if there were,” agreed 
Mr. Carey. “But suppose I help you a little 
with these invitations. We will ask Tad and 
his father and mother, and little Dorothy. 
There are four. And we’ll ask Mr. Si, and 
‘Mrs. Si,’ as you call her. And we’ll ask Bunny, 
of course. And I guess that’s all we’d better be 
held responsible for, don’t you? ” and Mr. Carey 
peered into the little face looking so eagerly 
into his. 

“ Can’t we take Nicolo ? ” asked Pen, a shadow 
of disappointment stealing across her expres- 
sive little face at the thought of slighting even 
so casual a friend as the Italian fruit 
vender. 

“Well, you see Nicolo can’t speak English 
very well,” said Mr. Carey, “and I’m afraid 
86 


SALLY GOES A-VOYAGING 


lie would be terribly embarrassed if be were with 
American ladies, aren’t you, mother? ” 

“I fear he would be, dear. And besides he 
could not neglect his business for so long a time, 
I am sure. What would the people do without 
their fruit? No one else sells it in Long Point,” 
was Mrs. Carey’s tactful answer. 

Pen thought very soberly for a moment, and 
then, giving her curly head a wise little 
shake, cried, as she slipped from her father’s 
knee: 

“ I guess we can’t have Nicolo ; he’s so busy. 
But I’ll go ask Bunny right off,” and away she 
flitted to find her pet, and tell him a wonderful 
tale of the voyage he was to make in the big 
white yacht the next day. 

It proved a charming morning, and by nine 
o’clock Silas appeared with his bus, and all 
started for the long dock known as the Commer- 
cial Wharf. News circulates quickly in Long 
Point, so all the small folk and half the large 
ones were on hand to see the party embark. 
The yacht’s pretty little naphtha launch lay 
bobbing beside the wharf waiting for Mr. 
Carey and bis guests, and Sally and Kate 
7 87 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET^S NEW HOME 


were of half a mind to get up a little diversion 
on their own accounts when they heard its 
roaring. 

“ Thar now ; quit yer nonsense,” cried Si, 
slapping Sally and Kate upon their fat flanks 
with his reins, for Si’s whip was more ornamen- 
tal than useful. “ Do you think that puffin’ nut- 
shell’s a-goin’ ter come slap up onto the wharf 
after two fool critters like you? Stand still, 
now, I say. You look after the wimmin folks, 
Mr. Carey, whilst I try ter git some sense into 
these shallow pates. Stand still. Do you want 
folks ter have their necks broke all along of your 
foolishness? ” 

Si’s horses were half human from their con- 
stant association with him, and presently his 
voice had its usual pacifying influence and they 
became as sedate as ever, only evincing a hint 
of recent perturbation by now and again giving 
a nervous twitch to their tails, very much as a 
fidgety old lady might twitch at the folds of her 
gown. 

Mr. Carey got his party safely out of the bus 
and safely into the launch and while this was 
taking place, Silas drove down the wharf to turn 
88 


SALLY GOES A-VOYAGING 


Sally, Kate and the Accommodation ” over to 
Jed Bean, a long-legged Cape Codder who had 
agreed to run it while Silas went off on his most 
unusual holiday. 

During his absence the juvenile population of 
Long Point swarmed upon every spile and pil- 
lar of the wharf, for school could go hang in 
the face of such an event as this embarkation. 
The sight of Mrs. Oldham and Si venturing 
forth on such an outing would have been a 
sufficient source of diversion, but with Mr. and 
Mrs. Carey and their party added, all laws and 
bounds could go to the winds. 

Foremost in the ranks was Sally Fielder, with 
a graduated array of brothers and sisters close 
at hand. Sally had swarmed up a particularly 
tall spile, where she managed, somehow, to cling 
with arms and legs, and from this vantage point 
peer down upon the occupants of the launch, 
now and again snatching a chance to make a face 
at Tad, who stood in the bow ; then, with light- 
ninglike transformation, to smile at Pen, who 
sat beside her mother in the stem. Perhaps had 
she stood beside Tad at the bow Sally would have 
felt it quite unnecesary to alter her facial 
89 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


expression at all, but Mrs. Carey was not to be 
trifled with in Sally’s estimation. 

Pen smiled back again, and, turning to Mrs. 
Carey, said: 

There’s Sally Fielder, mother,” and a mo- 
ment later slipped her hand into her mother’s 
and repeated : “ There’s Sally. 

There are some beings from whom “ thought 
leaps out to wed with thought, ere thought can 
wed itself to speech,” and since this mother and 
little daughter had been restored to each other 
this psychic sympathy had more than once been 
strongly demonstrated. 

“ Would you like to ask her to go with us! ” 
asked Mrs. Carey so softly that no one else 
heard. 

Pen turned those wonderful eyes up to her 
mother’s face and nodded ever so slightly. 

Sally ! ” called Mrs. Carey from the launch. 
‘‘Sally!” 

“What — ^ma’am!” screamed Sally from her 
perch. 

“ Would you like to go with us on the yacht? ” 

“ On that big white boat over yonder? ” cried 
Sally, loosening one hand to point excitedly to- 
90 


SALLY GOES A-VOYAGING 


ward the Viking, riding so gracefully upon the 
blue waters of the bay. 

“ Yes ; we are going for a sail. Will you come 
with us? ” 

“ Huh ! Ah ! ” was Sally’s next ejaculation, 
as she slid down the spile, as a sailor might 
slide down a mast, and landed in a heap on 
the wharf. Eunning close to the stringpiece 
she peered down at Mrs. Carey as though 
to learn whether the invitation were given 
in jest or earnest. Evidently the expression 
upon Mrs. Carey’s face reassured her for she 
said: 

“ Sure enough me ? I’ll have ter ask ma first. 
’Twon’t take me a minit. I live right hack there. 
Can yer wait? ” 

^‘We will wait. Eun quickly and ask her,” 
replied Mrs. Carey, much amused at her new 
venture, while Elizabeth Egelston said: 

don’t believe you realize what you’ve 
undertaken, Mrs. Carey. What moved you to 
ask Sally Fielder? ” 

Something in the child's wistful expression,” 
replied Mrs. Carey. “She seems such a neg- 
lected, forlorn little body, yet her face is a 
91 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


wonderfully clever one, after all. Such duck- 
lings have turned out swans, you know.’’ 

“ Perhaps you will wish she were a duck sure 
enough before the day ends,” was Elizabeth 
Egelston’s laughing rejoinder. 

“ Perhaps I shall,” was Mrs. Carey’s amused 
reply. “But mercy me, what is coming down 
the wharf! ” 

Well might Mrs. Carey ask. Perhaps fifteen 
minutes had elapsed since Sally’s departure, and 
now a marvelous apparition was tearing down 
the wharf close behind Silas, whose long strides 
were rapidly lessening the distance between the 
launch and himself. He was quite unaware of 
the figure behind him, and at a loss to understand 
the smiles and hoots of derision of those in 
front of him until moved to glance back over 
his shoulder. 

Then his eyes fell upon Sally. Sally had 
rushed home pell mell to ask her mother’s per- 
mission to accompany the yachting party, hut, as 
usual, Mrs. Fielder was off gossiping with some 
neighbor. 

But Sally was not to he deterred by such a 
trifle as that. One thought, however, had been 
92 


SALLY GOES A-VOYAGING 


rushing through her brain as she raced along, 
and this was the ever feminine one : What should 
she wear upon this great occasion? As Sally’s 
wardrobe usually consisted of about what she 
stood in, the question, consequently, ought to 
have been quickly answered. But Sally was 
resourceful, and meant to do honor to the invi- 
tation. 

Like most people of their stamp, the Fielders 
had good fairies guarding them in the shape of 
people whose sympathies prompted them to send 
cast-otf garments to this shiftless family. If the 
garments happened to fit as they arrived upon 
the scene of their future usefulness, well and 
good; a Fielder appeared arrayed in one of 
them. If they didn’t, they were bundled up into 
the attic — and remained there until the moths 
relieved Mrs. Fielder from all further responsi- 
bility concerning them. 

So when a demand arose for special and ele- 
gant attire, Sally lost not a second but rushing 
up to the garret made a dive for the first thing 
which came handy. It proved to be a white 
cashmere pink-silk-lined opera cape, of ample 
size and ancient design, and in a pocket of the 
93 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


lining was a pair of pink kid gloves, size six. 
To fling the cape about her and drag on the pink 
kid gloves as she raced back to the wharf con- 
sumed hut a moment, and it was this startling 
flgure which caused Mrs. Carey’s exclamation. 

Gorry-a-mighty ! ” cried Silas, stopping 
stock still to stare at Sally. 

Sally took no more notice of him than if he 
had been a stray leaf, but tore on down to the 
end of the wharf where she brought up with a 
bang against a spile and gasped out with what 
remnant of breath was left in her lungs : 

^‘I’m ready! I’ve come! I’m here!” 

Veni, vidi, vicil could not have been more 
expressive. 

“ So I see,” said Mrs. Carey. “ Everett, will 
you please help Sally aboard? ” 


94 



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'•h. 



CHAPTER IX 


THE YACHTING TEIP AND WHAT CAME OF IT 

“ Now you little people,” said Mr. Carey, when 
his party was safely transferred from the launch 
to the big steam yacht, “ stay right here, for we 
can’t have any wild flights forward and sud- 
den dives overboard. Pen, you look after moth- 
er and don’t let her come to grief. Tad, you 
look after Pen and tell me if she neglects her 
duty, and Sally? — ^well, Sally, suppose you look 
after Tad. I fancy you’ll prove able to manage 
him, although he is pretty sturdy,” concluded 
Mr. Carey, as he patted Tad’s square shoulders 
and smiled into the frank face. 

Penelope undertook her charge in all serious- 
ness, nestling close to her mother’s side. Tad 
laughed and said: 

“I guess Jem — I mean Penelope — don’t need 
much looking after. She ain’t the kind that 
gets into a mess,” and a sly glance at Sally 
95 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


implied that he would not have to look far to 
find some one who did now and again get 
into one. 

But Sally was too overcome with her good for- 
tune and present surroundings to pay heed to 
Tad’s remark, as well as too much in awe of Mr. 
Carey to have retorted, had she noticed the 
covert insinuation. 

Turning to her Mr. Carey asked : 

“ Do you like to sail, little girl 1 ” for it did 
not occur to him that Sally’s trips upon steam 
yachts must necessarily have been few and far 
between. 

‘‘ I ain’t never been on a boat like this before. 
Can I go out there where the men are haulin’ up 
the anchor? I want to see ’em do it,” answered 
Sally, her usual self-assurance returning. 

“No, I think you’d better remain right where 
you are. The crew can handle the anchor all 
right, I’m sure,” and Mr. Carey laughed into 
the witchlike little face raised to his. 

But Sally was not entirely convinced that this 
was the case and bided her time, for she was not 
the sort to give up a point readily. 

On bounded the beautiful yacht over the dan- 
96 


THE YACHTING TRIP 


cing waves, the spray dashing from her prow 
and now and again flying into the faces of those 
seated aft. Mr. and Mrs. Putnam were enjoy- 
ing their outing as keenly as a pair of children, 
for few outings had come to brighten their lives, 
and little Dorothy was snug upon her mother’s 
lap. Mrs. Oldham was lost in the depths of a 
great wicker deck chair, from which she now 
and again gave rather furtive glances toward the 
dancing prow of the yacht, for, even though 
born and bred upon Long Point, Mrs. Oldham 
had rarely stepped foot upon a vessel, and prob- 
ably would not have done so now had it not been 
for her regard for her host and hostess. 

“ Hello, mammy ! ” cried Silas, dropping upon 
a chair beside her. “Havin’ the time of yer 
life, ain’t you? This beats a mackerel smack 
clear out o’ sight, don’t it now ? I ain’t had such 
a frolic as this since I took ter omnibussing fer 
a livin’. Makes a feller feel like doin’ a horn- 
pipe, don’t it? Bet I could dance yer down! 
Want ter try? ” 

“ Go ’long with yer nonsense. Si. What’ll 
Mr. and Mrs. Carey think o’ yer foolishness,” 
cried Mrs. Oldham, turning to give Si’s arm a 
97 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET’S NEW HOME 


spat, for she felt such levity quite unbecoming 
the dignity of the occasion. 

Silas dodged the spat and turning to Mrs. 
Carey asked: 

Don’t you think you can spare that little girl 
fer a spell, Mrs. Carey? I don’t sort o’ like to 
think of to-morrow when I won’t see her round 
Long Point. S’pose you come along with me 
fer a spell? ” and he nodded enticingly to Penel- 
ope. 

Pen looked into her mother’s face as though 
to ask, “Can you spare me?” and being re- 
assured by Mrs. Carey’s smile hopped down and 
ran to Silas, who caught her in his arms. 

“ What were you a-thinkin’ about, sittin’ there 
by your mother?” asked Silas as he walked 
down the deck with the little girl in his arms. 

“ I was listening to the song way up there,” 
answered Pen, pointing to the masthead. “Can’t 
you hear it? It sounds just like the wind 
when it sings through the pine trees out in the 
woods. Do you think the tree is sorry because 
it was cut down and made into a mast, Mr. Si? 
Maybe that’s the way it says it wants to go back 
and live in the woods where it can be all green 
98 


THE YACHTING TRIP 


and pretty again. It sounds just like this, 
doesn’t it? ” and softly from between the rosebud 
lips came the strange whistling, wailing sound, 
though many tones lower and softer, made by 
the wind as it rushed through the main shrouds. 
It seemed so natural for the child to mimic any 
musical sound she heard. 

“ Hum,” said Silas, I wonder if there’s any 
sound o’ nature yon can’t repeat better’n the 
original ? ” 

Meanwhile Sally had been investigating every 
nook and cranny she dared venture into, and, if 
the truth must be told, Tad was not far behind 
her. For once, Tad was ready to go where 
Sally went, and Sally needed no one to enlighten 
her upon that score. It was with a very deep 
sense of satisfaction that she noted his willing- 
ness to do so, and leave Penelope’s society for 
hers. 

But Sally did not flatter herself that she was 
the sole attraction. She knew perfectly well 
that the novel situation in which fate had chosen 
to place them for a few hours was responsible 
for this delightful state of affairs. Neverthe- 
less, she was not going to ask the why and 
99 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


wherefore, hut make the most of her opportu- 
nities while they lasted. 

Say, ain’t this a splendid boat! ” asked Tad 
as they stood a little apart from the others 
looking over the rail. Tad ran his hand hack 
and forth over the polished brass rail as he 
spoke. 

‘‘IJm,” answered Sally, nodding and touch- 
ing the rail gingerly with her pink-kidded 
fingers. 

Tad glanced at the gloves and a funny smile 
made his lips twitch, but he made no comment, 
and Sally did not look at him. 

“I wonder how big the engine is! I’d like 
to see it, wouldn’t you! ” was Tad’s next remark, 
glancing forward as one of the crew vanished 
down a small companionway, evidently leading 
to the fascinating regions where the propelling 
power of the yacht was located. 

“Um,” replied Sally, once more glancing 
quickly in the direction of the companion ladder. 
Tad’s face was turned toward it so he did not 
see the impish look which flashed across Sally’s 
for a second. Then she stepped back from the 
rail and began to examine a pile of neatly coiled 
100 


THE YACHTING TRIP 


rope which lay a little nearer the cabin, gradu- 
ally working her way around Tad, and placing 
herself a few steps nearer the bow of the yacht. 
From examining the rope Sally became deeply 
interested in the pin rail. Next, her wizened 
little face nearly vanished from sight in a venti- 
lator. By this time the big smokestack hid 
both children from sight of the older members 
of the party. Tad had not given this a thought. 
Sally had. Tad^s curiosity was too lively to 
admit of other thoughts. Sally’s brain was 
capable of holding several thoughts at once. 

‘‘What’d you s’pose that thing is!” asked 
Sally pointing a pink finger toward the boat- 
swain’s deck chest. 

“ Maybe it’s where they keep all the flags,” 
said Tad. “ I’d like to see them; wouldn’t you!, 
Do you remember how they dressed up the 
boats that were in the harbor last Fourth o’ 
July! ” 

“Yes; weren’t they splendid,” cried Sally. 
“ I wish they’d dress up this one.” 

“ Maybe they would if we asked ’em to,” was 
Tad’s sanguine remark. “ Oh, I say, look down 
there! I see the engine and the boiler, ain’t 
101 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


they splendid! See how fast that big wheel 
goes round! Look! Look! And see way, 
way down, there’s the fire, and the man pokin’ 
in the coal. Oh, I wish we could go down. I 
wish we could,” and Tad danced up and down 
in his eagerness. 

Why can’t we? It’d only take a minit, and 
we couldn’t get hurt. There’s a man down there 
to look out for us,” said the voice of the tempt- 
ress. 

Tad glanced back toward the group at the 
stem, but they were apparently well pleased 
with themselves and the world in general. 

“ Bet I can go down that little ladder quicker’n 
you can,” was Sally’s next seductive remark. 

“ Bet you can%’^ was Tad’s perfectly natural 
retort. 

“ Show you ” ; and the next second the white 
cashmere opera cape and pink kid gloves were 
rapidly descending the narrow iron companion- 
way, which led straight down to the stoker’s 
sooty regions. 

Now, perhaps, all would have gone well had 
the young lady taken the precautions to an- 
nounce to the stoker her intention of paying a 
102 


THE YACHTING TRIP 


visit to the lower regions, but this had been fur- 
thest from her thoughts. So it is not surprising 
that the autocrat of that section of the yacht 
was struck nearly dumb when, glancing up, he 
beheld what he had reason to believe was an 
apparition descending upon him, for the white 
cape flew out from Sally’s figure like wings, and 
she descended with speed. 

Neilson had come straight from Norway 
where, as everyone knows, all manner of sea 
spirits dwell, and Neilson had his full share of 
Norse superstitions. Moreover, he could not 
speak to American spirits, because his tongue 
could not manage their language. So he did the 
next best thing — ^he howled at this one in his 
native tongue. 

At the howl Sally paused a second in her 
descent. She couldn’t see below her on account 
of her cape, and it did not occur to her to 
give an answering howl and thus reassure 
Neilson. 

That second’s pause was fatal, for Tad was 
doing his best to prove that he could reach the 
bottom of the iron ladder almost, if not quite, 
as quickly as she did, and his next step brought 
8 103 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


his foot fairly and squarely upon Sally’s fingers, 
and Tad weighed considerable for a hoy of his 
years. 

The howl came then, and in her pain Sally 
lost both handgrasp and foothold, and the next 
second completed Neilson’s confusion by land- 
ing on top of him. Then came another howl 
and a scramble, but even the most commodious 
of yachts are somewhat cramped in the boiler 
rooms, and leave little space for wild pranc- 
ing about. Sally tumbled one way, Neilson 
the other, while Tad clung to the ladder for 
dear life. 

But Neilson speedily recovered his presence 
of mind and sped to aid Sally, who was now 
scrambling to her feet, one hand holding her 
arm, across which a wicked, red scar was al- 
ready appearing, for she had struck it against 
the furnace door as she fell. It must have 
pained her cruelly, but she did not utter a sound ; 
only shut her lips tightly together and breathed 
hard. 

By this time other members of the crew had 
come to learn the cause of the turmoil, and 
quickly got the children on deck. Sally was 
104 


THE YACHTING TRIP 


carried aft, a sorry little sight, for the gorgeous 
opera cloak had swept the furnace room floor, 
and the pink gloves had swept the cloak. 

Mr. and Mrs. Carey sprang to their feet as 
Sally was home toward them, but Silas was 
the first to reach her and take her in his arms. 

“My gracious, Sally! whafs happened!” he 
cried. 

“ Nothing,” said the little Spartan. “ I’m all 
right, it don’t hurt much now.” 

“ But it must, my poor little girl. Come with 
me and let me put something on it,” cried Mrs. 
Carey much distressed. Although the bum was 
an ugly one, they soon had the arm bandaged 
with cream, and Sally made more comfortable, 
whereupon she remarked to Tad : 

“ I knew I’d beat you down,^^ 

“ If you want to beat in that fashion, I guess 
I’m willing you should. I’d rather go down 
feet first than head first,” was Tad’s retort. 

“I didnH go head first! I landed right on 
him with both feet; so there now!” was Sally’s 
spirited reply. 

“ And I’ve a notion that you will land on both 
feet upon all occasions,” cried Mr. Carey, laugh- 
105 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


ing. ‘^From what I’ve observed in our brief 
acquaintance, Sally, I believe you will come out 
number one on most occasions.” 

^^But just look at my lovely cape!” cried 
Sally, regarding with some dismay the coal- 
besmirched garment. ^^Ma’ll spank me, sure’s 
the world, ’cause I took it without askin’.” 

I hardly think she will punish you for that, 
Sally. Your tumble, and your bum are a pretty 
severe punishment, I am sure.” 

‘‘Pooh! She won’t think they’re anything, 
and I’ll get one grand wallopin’ sure ; that’s the 
way ma does. I never ran off and had a good 
time in my life without gettin’ a taste of the 
strap to help me remember my fun,” and Sally 
shrugged her shoulders defiantly. 

“ Why, doesn’t she know you are with us ? ” 
asked Mrs. Carey with much concern, for it had 
not occurred to her that Sally had taken French 
leave. 

“ Oh, no,” was Sally’s nonchalant reply. 
“She was off talkin’ with Mis. Pitts, and I 
didn’t waste time runnin’ after her. She’ll 
know it when she gets home, I guess.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Carey exchanged glances. 

106 


THE YACHTING TEIP 


Perhaps Professor Eulie might find an in- 
teresting subject not far off. What do you 
think, mother? ” asked Mr. Carey. 

think I might look a long time and not 
find a more interesting one for him,” replied 
Mrs. Carey. 


107 


CHAPTER X 


BUNNY MEETS HIS MATCH 

A MONTH had slipped away, and Jack Frost 
had painted the foliage of beautiful Brookline 
in gorgeous colors. In Mr. Carey’s grounds 
the elms, maples and beeches vied with one an- 
other in their brilliant display, and the great 
clusters of salvia growing close to the piazza 
waved gay scarlet fingers to the leaves dancing 
above in the clear October sunshine. 

On a little patch of green lawn where the sun 
shone brightest sat Penelope, with King lying 
beside her, his head resting peacefully upon his 
huge forepaws, although he was quite alert to 
every move his little mistress made. Pen had 
laid one of his big, flapping ears across one 
hand and was stroking its velvety softness with 
the outstretched palm of the other. Like every- 
thing she did, the touch was as gentle and dainty 
as a fairy’s. King approved the caress, as his 
108 


BUNNY MEETS HIS MATCH 


contented expression amply testified. Now and 
again, Pen varied the performance by brushing 
her cheek lightly across the great ear, and King 
liked that best of all. 

“ King,” said Penelope presently, “ King, do 
you know IVe been home — ^right here, I mean, 
in mother^s and daddy’s house — three whole 
weeks since we came home from Long Point and 
brought Bunny here, and didn’t bring Aunt Me- 
hitable nor Mr. Si? You don’t know Aunt 
Mehitable, do you. King? Well — ^maybe, maybe 
you wouldn’t like Aunt Mehitable real well, 
’cause I guess she’d think you were too big to 
come into the house. I guess maybe she would. 
You see. King, her house isn’t as big as this 
one, and you might get under foot, like Bunny 
did. Then Bunny got hurt and I got — ^well, I 
guess I most got mad. But you won’t have to 
go there, King; no never,” added the soft little 
piping voice hastily, as though King might sud- 
denly depart with such a prospect before him. 
^‘No, we aren’t ever going away from mother 
and daddy any more. Aren’t you glad of that, 
King? I am. You and Bunny and I will live 
with them always — always,” and overcome by 
109 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S ISHEW HOME 


this rapturous thought, Pen cast herself upon 
the big dog and hugged him with aU her small 
might. 

It proved an unlucky demonstration, for just 
then Bunny came cavorting over the lawn and 
spied his rival in his mistress’s arms. This 
sight was entirely too much for Bunny to en- 
dure. Ever since his arrival at Beech Lawn, Mr. 
Carey’s home. Bunny had been frantic with 
jealousy of King. It made no difference that 
he and King shared equal privileges, were cared 
for and petted alike, and equally beloved by 
their little mistress; Bunny had been her first 
love — so far as he knew, for he had never known 
of Frisky and the robin — and he did not mean 
to have a rival if he could prevent such a catas- 
trophe. Bunny had journeyed to Beech Lawn 
like a royal prince — literally clothed in purple 
and fine linen — for Miss Egelston had presented 
Penelope with the lavender linen bag which had 
once before served as Bunny’s vehicle of trans- 
portation, and in it he had made the journey 
from Long Point. Upon his arrival, he had 
walked out of his bag, investigated every comer 
of the living room, and, after jumping on and 

no 


BUNNY MEETS HIS MATCH 


off every chair in the room, had finally selected 
a bright yellow sofa pillow, curled himself up 
upon it, and settled down for a nap. Undoubt- 
edly the nap would have lasted for hours, 
for Bunny was weary from his journey, had 
not a startling interruption brought it to an 
end. 

King, who had the freedom of the house, had 
heard his missie’s voice, and although ETng had 
claimed Penelope for a missie barely twenty- 
four hours before her departure for Long Point, 
he was very loyal and loved the little maid 
who had hugged him so rapturously when he 
was given to her. So King stalled royally into 
the living room to greet the family, and after 
receiving his full share of caresses from each 
member, gave his thoughts to other matters, for 
his sensitive nose told him another animal of 
some sort was in the room. Around and around 
he walked, his nose wriggling and his tail wav- 
ing. Presently he came to the couch upon 
which Bunny was curled up, fast asleep upon the 
yellow cushion. Bunny couldnT have chosen a 
more effective background for his shiny black- 
ness. King paused, looked at the newcomer in 
111 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


dignified surprise, then put his nose close down 
to sniff acquaintance. 

At the first whiff of the big dog’s warm breath 
upon his face, up fiew Bunny, a perfect little 
fury, hair erect, tail bristling, his topaz eyes 
flashing sparks, and shrieking, ‘‘Merow — ow — 
ow ! ” as he gave a vicious dig at the big dog 
with his formidable claws. 

“Woh — ^yow ! ” yelped King, bounding back- 
ward, quite overcome by the tempest he had 
aroused in so small and seemingly harmless an 
object. 

‘‘0 Bunny! How could you*?” Penelope 
had cried in dismay, running to stanch poor 
King’s bleeding nose, for Bunny’s claws were 
sharp ones. 

For a moment King was a much abused 
dog, deeply in need of his missie’s consolation. 
Then King was himself again, and stalked 
from the room, the very picture of insulted 
majesty. 

And from that moment Bunny had hated him 
with a most violent hatred, for had not Penelope 
taken his part! Horrible thought! So he pro- 
ceeded to torment poor King’s life nearly out 
112 


BUNNY MEUTS HIS MATCH 

of him, until Pen was much put about to know 
how to bring harmony between them. 

So this sunny afternoon, as she sat upon the 
lawn making love to the big dog. Bunny spied 
her and instantly began to brindle and bristle. 
Up cocked his bottle-brush of a tail, his back 
arched and his eyes gleamed. Then he pro- 
ceeded across the lawn by a series of sidewise 
jumps and bounds, very like a prize-ring fighter 
preparing to attack his opponent. 

On came the atom of black fur, bearing down 
upon his unconscious enemy with every evidence 
of vindictive fury, to land the next second with 
a wild yowl on poor King’s back. 

Such an onslaught was enough to scatter any 
creature’s wits, and King was excusable for the 
wild bound he gave to free himself from Bunny 
even though he sent Penelope heels over head. 
Pen screamed. King yelped and Bunny squalled 
his rage. 

Then King recovered himself regally, and a 
line of thought, very much on this order, flashed 
through his mind: 

“ This is a pretty state of affairs, and no mis- 
take ! Here we are, as peaceable and contented 
113 


LITTLE MISS CBICKET’S NEW HOME 


as we can be. We love each other, and would be 
happy but for that black bunch of jealousy. 
The idea of such nonsense! Why, I could eat 
him up with one bite, and yet I let him make us 
all miserable. Why can’t he behave himself? 
I’ll treat him fair and square if he’ll let me 
alone. Such foUy must be stopped at once, and 
Tve got to stop it. I wonder if my missie is 
hurt? ” and the big dog began to lick Pen’s face, 
for she had now scrambled to a sitting position, 
and was reading a lecture to Bunny, who had 
scuttled off to a garden seat, where he stood spit- 
ting and sputtering like a small steam engine. 

When he had assured himself that Pen was 
none the worse for her spill, King set about ad- 
ministering justice to the cause of the disturb- 
ance. Stalking over to the rustic seat with an 
air which plainly said : 

Now, my son, I’ve a score to settle with you,” 
he came close to the little marplot glaring at 
him. To Bunny’s credit be it said, he stood 
his ground. This was not the first time King 
had walked up to Bunny with the evident inten- 
tion of paying off some score, for Bunny had 
never lost an opportunity to give him a dig. But 
114 


BUNNY MEETS fflS MATCH 


each time King had generously thought better 
of it, and turned and walked off again. That 
was exactly what Bunny was counting upon in 
this instance, hut for once he reckoned without 
his host. Closer and closer came King, watch- 
ing warily. Louder and louder Bunny yowled 
his defiance. Then there was one wild grab and 
a louder yowl and only Bunny’s head and tail 
were visible. King held him fast in his mouth. 

Poor little Penelope was at first too startled 
to stir, but the next second she was flying to 
Bunny’s rescue. Too late; Bunny had trans- 
gressed once too often ; now it was King’s turn. 
Bunny might squirm and claw and scream all 
he had a mind to; he could not get free. But 
if King was doing all this in anger he was 
manifesting it in a very curious manner, for no 
sooner did he see Pen rushing toward him than 
off he bounded over the lawn, his tail waving 
and barks, as hilarious as they could be, con- 
sidering he held a mouthful of squirming cat, 
telling of his victory. 

In one comer of the grounds was a little 
pond with a fountain playing in the center. 
Straight for this pond tore King, and plunging 
115 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


in swam out to the middle of it. Bunny thought 
his last hour had come sure enough, and his 
defiant yowls changed to cries of terror. 

When King gained the position he wished, 
souse! went Bunny under the water. Souse! 
once more, and souse ! a third time. Then King 
swam ashore and coming up to Pen, who stood 
wailing upon the edge of the pond, deposited 
the soaked kitten in her arms, gave himself a 
shake which half drowned his little mistress, 
and then stalked off toward the piazza to dry 
himself. 

0 Bunny, Bunny, are you drownded 
dead ! ” cried Pen, hugging the dripping kitten 
to her breast. 

But Bunny was a long way from dead. In- 
deed, there was not a scratch to be found any- 
where upon him, although he was about as sub- 
dued and quenched an animal as anyone could 
picture. 

Pen hurried with him to the house, where Mrs. 
Carey, startled by her cries, met her, and learned 
of Bunny’s baptism. 

“Is he going to die? Will it kill him?” 
wailed Pen. 


116 


BUNNY MEETS HIS MATCH 


On the contrary, I think he got just what he 
deserved,” laughed Mrs. Carey. “ He has been 
most unkind to poor King ever since he came 
here, and I wouldn’t he surprised if you found 
him a much better behaved cat after this pun- 
ishment,” concluded Mrs. Carey, as she rubbed 
poor Bunny with a bath towel. 

“ Did King do it just because Bunny was so 
bad? ” asked Pen incredulously. “ I thought he 
was going to eat him right up.” 

Not a bit of it, sweetheart. King knew what 
such a little cross-patch merited.” 

And indeed King must have known, for, from 
that moment on, a more subdued kitten never 
lived, and that evening, when the family had 
gathered around the blazing logs in the living 
room, with King stretched lionlike on the hearth 
rug, what was their astonishment to see Bunny 
walk in, settle himself between King’s huge fore- 
paws, and curl up for a nap. 

King rested his head upon Bunny for a second, 
and then looked up at Pen as though to say : 

^‘You see I knew what was best for him. 
Now we’ll have a little peace and comfort, in 
this family.” 


117 


CHAPTER XI 


“what does my birthday mean?^’ 

There’s no dew left on the daisies or clover, 

There’s no rain left in heaven: 

I’ve said my seven times over and over; 

Seven times one are seven.” 

Sang Mrs. Carey softly, as she bent over the 
little brass bedstead and kissed Penelope seven 
times. 

Pen opened her eyes and blinked sleepily at 
her, a drowsy smile wreathing her lips as she 
did so. 

“ Seven — times — one — are — seven, seven, sev- 
en!” repeated Mrs. Carey, dropping upon her 
knees beside the bed to clasp her arms about 
the sleepy little body tucked so snugly away 
beneath the soft coverlid, and nestle her head 
close to the golden one. “ Wake up, little 
sleepy-head and see the sun shining in at your 
118 


‘‘MY BIRTHDAY 


window to wish you a happy birthday. Do you 
know you are seven years old to-day? ” 

“ Am I ? ” asked Pen, struggling to a sitting 
position and clasping her arms about her moth- 
er’s neck. “Am I? What does my birthday 
mean 1 Aunt Mehitahle never told me what my 
birthday meant. I don’t believe she knew, do 
you? What is my birthday? ” 

A slight shadow passed over Mrs. Carey’s 
face as she answered: 

“ It is the day you were bom — October thir- 
tieth — and came to live with daddy and me — 
seven years ago to-day.” 

“ Then how did I get unborn again and go to 
live at Aunt Mehitable’s where I didn’t have any 
birthdays? What must I do on my birthday? ” 
asked Penelope, for during the past two months 
spent in this new home, there had been so many 
revelations that she found it hard to adjust her- 
self to all of them ; the new order of things was 
so unlike the old that poor little Pen was often 
quite bewildered. 

“ Daddy,” called Mrs. Carey into the adjoin- 
ing room, “here is a little girl who wants to 
know what she must do on her birthday, and 
9 119 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


what birthdays mean. Do you think you can 
tell her! ” 

Mr. Carey came into Penelope’s pretty bed- 
room, and, seating himself upon the opposite 
side of the bed, said ; 

“Well, some people get a fine beating upon 
their birthdays — one sharp lash for each year. 
But we don’t approve of such things here. 
Others have as many kisses as they are years 
old, and I can supply those all right. Some 
people have lots of pretty things given to them, 
and I think mother — ^with King’s help — has 
looked after that part of it. Some people in- 
vite their friends to come a-visiting, but I don’t 
know what you will do in that way. Some folks 
have a grand frolic and some give frolics for 
others. There ! What do you think of all that, 
and which do you think you will choose to cele- 
brate your birthday! ” 

“Must I do one of them, anyway!” asked 
Penelope, looking from one face to the other to 
learn the extent of her obligations. 

“Suppose I help you out a little, darling,” 
said Mrs. Carey. “ When a person has lost so 
many birthdays right out of her life as you have 
120 


“MY BIRTHDAY” 

I’m afraid it isn’t very easy to learn how to 
celebrate one when it is newly found. But here 
comes King ; I hear his footfalls. Here we are, 
King! Come and wish your missie a happy 
birthday.” 

King’s pad — pad — pad fell upon the floor 
of the adjoining room, as he walked gravely 
through it, and the next moment his huge form 
appeared in the doorway. In his mouth he 
carried a large basket, in which lay a long 
box carefully wrapped. On the paper was 
written ; 

“For mother’s little daughter; with loving 
wishes for a happy birthday.” 

King came close to the bedside and deposited 
the basket in front of Pen. Pen swooped down 
upon his big head and clasped it in her arms, 
greatly to the disturbance of King’s dignity, for 
he had a part to play and wished to do him- 
self credit. So after submitting a moment, he 
struggled to free himself; squatted upon his 
haunches and beat a tattoo upon the floor with 
his tail. 

“What does he want, mother?” asked Pen 
quite at a loss to understand King’s language. 

121 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET^S NEW HOME 


“ I think lie wants you to open the box, dear,” 
answered Mrs. Carey. 

‘‘ Is it for me? ” asked Penelope incredulously. 
‘^I never had a box before. Do people get 
boxes on their birthdays ? ” 

good many boxes, sometimes,” was Mr. 
Carey’s answer, as a shadow passed across his 
face. 

‘‘Aunt Mehitable didn’t have any birthdays 
or any boxes,” said Pen, as she lifted the big 
box from its basket. The moment the basket 
was empty King grasped it and tore out of the 
room with a joyous bark. 

Pen jumped, and Mr. and Mrs. Carey laughed. 

“ Where has he gone ? ” asked Pen. 

“I think he has much business on hand to- 
day,” said Mr. Carey. “But why don’t you 
open your box, little one? ” 

Pen shrugged up her shoulder, cocked her 
head upon one side, wrinkled her mite of a nose 
into a queer little pucker, and answered as she 
held her box tightly clasped to her : 

“ I just sort o’ like to hold it. Just to make 
it last longer and know it’s mine, and I’m here, 
and youWe here, and King, and Buimy are here, 
122 


BIRTHDAY 


too, and we all — all — love each other, and Bunny 
loves King and won’t he cross to him any more. 
Shall I open the box now? ” 

‘‘I certainly would, dear,” said Mrs. Carey 
very gently as she stroked the golden head. 

“I will,” cried Pen, and began unfastening 
the string. 

I think it will be hard for the little children 
who have always had beautiful dolls to love 
and play with to realize what it meant to little 
Pen to find a wonderful doll inside that box, for 
never in her life, at least the part of it she could 
remember, had she held a doll of any sort in her 
arms. Miss Starbright had not felt it necessary 
to buy toys for ‘‘ Jemima.” And this doll was 
a marvelous one ; from the top of her blue-feath- 
ered hat to the tips of her blue-kid shoes, 
her toilet was quite perfect, and Penelope looked 
upon her with speechless delight. 

For about five minutes not a sound was to be 
heard as the fascinated child touched the hair, 
the face, the garments, the shoes of this wonder- 
ful toy which had been given her. Something 
actually put into her hands for her very own, 
and not one word of admonition spoken regard- 
123 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


ing it. Mr. and Mrs. Carey looked at the little 
girl with naany strange emotions filling their 
hearts, for until now they had hardly realized 
how barren of all childish joys little Penelope’s 
life at Mehitahle’s had been. 

She had been an endless source of wonder to 
them ever since her return, and quite unlike 
any child they had ever known. Mrs. Carey 
had more than once said to her husband: 

‘‘Everett, do you think she will ever be a 
real child again and able to enjoy life as other 
children do? She is just a little old woman 
now; sweet and lovable, but without a particle 
of childish romp or fun in her. Oh! it makes 
me so sad to see her.” 

“ Give her time, dear. Give her time,” Mr. 
Carey had invariably answered. “Remember 
what her surroundings have been for three years. 
She has got to learn to be a child, and we must 
help her by giving her the things children love. 
Later, when school days come, she will be more 
like the children she is thrown with.” 

“ I cannot bear to think of sending her from 
me even for school hours,” Mrs. Carey replied. 

So now they stood by the little girl watching 
124 


MY BIRTHDAY” 


anxiously the outcome of her birthday surprises, 
and the next moment had a surprise themselves. 
Without a word of warning Penelope hounded 
up in bed with her precious dolly clasped 
tightly in her arms, and began prancing about 
as though she had taken a sudden leave of 
her little wits, and singing as hard as she 
could sing. True, the song was one of Si’s amaz- 
ing songs, all about a certain “ Old Grymes,” 
whose coat was ‘‘buttoned down before,” and 
apparently had small hearing upon the doll’s 
gorgeous raiment, which buttoned down behind. 
Moreover, the song could hardly be called 
dance music. Nevertheless, Pen unconsciously 
sang it in waltz time, and pranced up and 
down the bed like a very lively little kildee 
until her father caught her up in his arms, 
doll and all, and in a burst of joyous laughter 
cried : 

“Well, I think dolly has taught you what 
birthdays mean.” 

Pen’s laughter pealed through the room. 

“ Why, here is King again,” cried Mrs. Carey. 
“ What now. King? More birthday surprises ! ” 
For King seemed filled with importance and 
125 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


grave responsibilities. He carried the basket 
in his mouth, but this time the lid was fastened 
tightly down, and the basket bobbed about in 
a lively manner, while from within came the 
sound of scratching and clawing. After some 
ado King managed to get it upon the bed, and 
by this time Penelope was sufficiently infected 
with the spirit of the fun to promptly pounce 
upon it. Up came the lid and out popped Bunny 
resplendent in a brand-new collar and big red 
bow. 

Bunny had resented his confinement in the 
basket even for the brief time necessary for the 
journey from the pantry where Annie, the house- 
maid, had popped him into it, to Penelope’s 
room, and when the lid was raised he shot forth 
like a Jack from the box. But Pen was too 
quick for him, and caught him by his big red 
bow. 

‘‘ Oh, my ; ain’t he just splendid ! ” she cried. 
“ I never saw such a beautiful collar and great 
big bow. My! what a lot of money they must 
have cost. I wonder what Aunt Mehitable 
would think if she knew it.” 

Suppose you try to forget Aunt Mehitable 
126 


‘‘MY BIRTHDAY” 


for a little while,” said Mr. Carey. “ Let me tell 
you what is printed on Bunny’s collar. You see 
we don’t want him to get lost, so we have had 
his name put right on this little plate. See : ” 

BUNNY CAREY 
Beech Lawn, Beookline, Mass. 

“ That’s as plain as a pikestaff, isn’t it? Now, 
scrabble round, quick as a wink, and come down 
for breakfast because I know where there is 
one hungry body, anyway.” 

“I know where there’s two — ^three — four — 
five ! ” cried Pen, pointing rapidly from one to 
the other. King and Bunny included, as she 
scrambled from her bed and began tugging on 
her stockings. 

That was the happiest day little Penelope 
Carey had ever known. No princess in the 
fairy tale where her dearest wish was granted, 
could have been happier. While at Long Point, 
Pen had often watched the other children at play 
with their dolls, although the dolls at Long Point 
had been quite unlike this beautiful one which 
was now hers. 


127 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


It had been almost impossible for her to real- 
ize that the doll and the little English perambu- 
lator given her after breakfast were really hers 
to play with all she bad a mind to, but at 
length she found it was not a dream and her joy 
was complete. 

But can joy ever be quite unalloyed in this 
world? But for Bunny’s very lively curiosity 
perhaps Pen’s might have been that day, but 
Bunny bad to bring calamity upon himself and 
others as well. 

Mr. Carey’s property had long ago been part 
of a large farm, his father and grandfather 
having lived there when their fathers and grand- 
fathers were alive, for Brookline had not then 
been the fine suburb it is to-day. Gradually, 
however, the big city had crept up to it, and 
streets were cut through where fields and or- 
chards once flourished. Mr. Carey’s house now 
stood in the center of a block carefully fenced 
in upon all sides by a handsome iron fence and 
hedge of privet, for Mr. Carey liked to be shut 
away from the idle gaze of the passers-by. In 
one corner of the grounds, not far from the car- 
riage house, was an old well, roofed over and 
128 


MY BIETHDAY 


rather picturesque upon the whole. Why it had 
been left there was hard to say, unless because 
the springs which fed it were unusually sweet, 
and the well had been highly valued by Mr. 
Carey^s grandfather. At all events there it 
stood in the hedge and many a thirsty body 
was refreshed by a draught from its limpid 
depths. 

Now, who can tell why certain individuals or 
animals when perfectly well off need crave 
something more? Ever since Bunny^s arrival 
at Beech Lawn he had been made much of and 
given the freedom of the place, although he was 
expected to remain within the bounds of the 
hedge and fence like every other well-conducted 
member of the family. The gates were always 
closed and it was supposed he was reasonably 
safe from running away, even if such a notion 
took him. Until to-day it had not seemed to 
enter his head to go beyond bounds, but perhaps 
he thought Penelope ought to have a diversion 
upon her birthday. 

It was a glorious October afternoon and Pen 
was wheeling the new dolly in her perambulator. 
Around and around the grounds she went, Bunny 
129 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


scampering before her and King walking ma- 
jestically by her side. Every portion of the 
grounds was visited. At length they came 
near the rustic covered well. Bunny was the 
first to discover it. It seemed to him an opening 
in the hedge and a fine means of exit into the 
world beyond. 

A spring, a bound, a wild scratching to regain 
his foothold upon the mossy stones and Bunny 
disappeared from sight with a yowl of terror. 
Then came a faint splash from far below. 


130 


CHAPTER XII 


KING TO THE BESCUE 

With a wild scream Penelope let go the 
handle of the perambulator and flew to the edge 
of the well, King, with a sympathetic bark of 
comprehension, hounding beside her. 

“ Bunny, Bunny ! oh, my Bunny ! ” screamed 
Pen, leaning far over the edge, but only faint 
wails of distress answered her from the well’s 
dark depths. King raised himself up, and rest- 
ing his forefeet on the well curb, peered down, 
too, his head turned a little sidewise and his 
ears alert. 

“ Bunny, Bunny ! ” cried Pen again, stretching 
her arms toward the object she could not see. 
As she did so a stone loosened and fell from 
sight with a splash. 

King shrank back as though alive to the 
danger of his position, and barked a deep bark 
of warning at his little mistress. But Pen either 
131 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


did not, or would not, understand her danger. 
King barked again. 

Meanwhile precious moments were being 
wasted, and this King seemed fully to under- 
stand. He was quite beside himself. At length 
he took matters into his own ordering. With 
a low bark he came swiftly but gently up to 
Penelope and taking firm hold of her jacket, 
pulled her steadily away from the dangerous 
spot. 

Pen shrieked and struggled to get free but 
it was useless. Back, back he tugged until he 
had her out of all danger, then with a final 
jerk he landed her in a sitting position upon 
the soft grass. This done, with a warning bark, 
he rushed back to the well and giving one wild 
leap disappeared over the curb. 

Penelope did not wait to call to him, but flew 
back to the house as fast as her feet would 
carry her, crying: 

“ Mother ! mother ! mother I King and Bunny 
have tumbled into the well. They’re drown^^m^, 
drown^Zm^/ ” 

At her cries every member of the household 
came rushing out, Mrs. Carey foremost of all. 
132 


KING TO THE RESCUE 

When she learned the cause of her distress, she 
cried : 

“ Quick, quick ! Call Robert and tell him to 
summon help ! ’’ 

In two minutes Robert, Mr. Carey’s coach- 
man, was running toward the old well, call- 
ing aloud as he ran to some men who were at 
work sweeping the street, and in two more min- 
utes it seemed as though half Brookline had ar- 
rived upon the scene; so quickly can a crowd 
gather at an alarm. 

“Hi, King! King, old fellow!” called Rob- 
ert, peering down into the dark well. 

“Woh! woh!” came a muffled bark from 
below. 

“Good dog! Good dog!” called Robert en- 
couragingly. “Hold on a bit and we’ll have 
you out,” and Robert began to unwind the rope 
which drew up the old bucket. 

“ ’Twon’t do ; ’twon’t do ; it’s too old ; it isn’t 
safe,” cried one of the workmen. “ What 
are ye thinkin’ of doin’ anyway, man?” he 
asked incredulously, as he saw Robert strain- 
ing at the rope to test its strength. 

“I’m going down after that dog, of course. 
133 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET’S NEW HOME 

What do yon think? Do you s’pose Pd let him 
drown?” cried Eohert indignantly. 

Are you a fool? ” demanded the man. 

‘^I am not] nor a knave, neither, to see an 
animal drown before my eyes. Wait a hit; I 
have a rope at the stable,” and Eohert ran 
quickly toward the stable, to reappear a moment 
later with a large coil of stout rope. Hastily 
tying it about his body he climbed to the well 
curb and saying to the men, “ Now, one of you 
lower away with the rope while the other looks 
to the bucket windlass,” he placed his feet upon 
the edge of the bucket, grasped the old rope 
firmly and was soon disappearing from sight. 

Mrs. Carey, with hands clasped in anxiety, 
and little Pen beside her, white with terror, 
stood watching him vanish. 

“ Hold on a hit. Wait a little ; there’s a good 
dog,” he called to King. 

It seemed an age to the watchers before a 
splash told them that Eohert had reached the 
water. As he descended, his eyes became more 
accustomed to the darkness of the well, and he 
could see King treading water and looking up 
to him with the pathetic appeal of an animal 
134 


KING TO THE EESCUE 


in danger and helpless. In King’s mouth was 
Bunny, limp and half lifeless, hut safe from 
harm so far as good King could protect him. 

Now came the task of getting King out of 
his perilous situation and a task it was. Kohert 
afterward said that he could not tell how he man- 
aged to make the dog understand that he wanted 
him to place his hind feet in the bucket, hut 
somehow King seemed to comprehend, and so 
the burden was drawn to safety; Robert stand- 
ing upon the edge of the old bucket, grasping 
the rope with one hand and clasping King to 
his breast with the other, and King holding 
Bunny in his mouth. 

Such a hurrah as was raised when the three 
appeared above the weU curb, where many will- 
ing hands were stretched forth to draw them to 
safety. 

“ Hurrah! hurrah! burro o! ” yelled the very 
man who had criticised Robert for venturing 
down. “Look at the dog! Look at the dog 
with the cat all safe and sound in the mouth 
av him. Did iver ye see the hate av that in all 
ye days. Hurroo fer the dog, I say.” 

The instant King’s feet touched the ground 
10 135 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


he rushed to Penelope and placed Bunny in her 
arms, and then gave a joyous hark as though 
to say: 

“There he is, safe and sound. I did it; I 
don’t bear malice. It’s all right now, isn’t it? ” 
and went capering off, shaking himself dry and 
acting like a crazy dog. 

Pen clasped the rapidly reviving Bunny 
tightly in her arms and called him all manner 
of endearing names, for, like naughty children. 
Bunny was made much of once he was rescued 
from a peril into which his own naughtiness had 
plunged him. 

“King! Good, brave King, come here,” 
called Mrs. Carey, and King came bounding to- 
ward her to he warmly caressed in spite of his 
soaking hair. 

If ever a dog was in danger of having his 
head turned from vanity that dog was King, for 
everyone had a word of praise for him. 

“ Robert,” said Mrs. Carey, “ please learn the 
names of the men who aided in King’s rescue; 
Mr. Carey will wish to know who they are. And 
he shall hear of your brave work to-day.” 

“Ah, it wasn’t anything at all, Mrs. Carey. 
136 


KING TO THE RESCUE 


Sure, no one would have let the dog drown 
before their very eyes,” replied Robert, quite 
abashed by her words. 

have an idea that several bodies might 
have done so,” answered Mrs. Carey, as she led 
Pen back to the house, stopping on the way to 
take along the neglected dolly. 

From that day forward Bunny was King’s 
slave and it was funny enough to see him. 
King could not lie down without Bunny in- 
stantly appearing, even though two minutes be- 
fore there had been no sign of him anywhere 
about. If King stretched himself upon the 
hearthrug. Bunny immediately scrooched up 
close to him and began to wash and scrub him 
most industriously; very much as an old cat 
grooms her kittens. King’s ears were Bunny’s 
special charge and were licked and smoothed 
until the family wondered how any hair re- 
mained upon them, for Bunny’s tongue was like 
a small carding-comb. 

Poor King endured a sort of martyrdom, and 
had never understood until now what a hor- 
ribly dirty dog he must he. Again and again 
did he turn away his much washed head in 
137 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


his endeavors to free himself from Bunny’s too 
marked solicitude, only to be insistently followed 
up and have more lavish caresses forced upon 
him. When he could not endure them any 
longer, the poor, beset dog would get upon his 
feet, look pathetically at the family, who enjoyed 
the joke hugely, and then walk disconsolately 
from the room as though to say : 

‘^Dear me; ‘save me from my friends.’ I 
could keep out of his way when he hated me. 
Now that he loves me so desperately I am 
driven nearly distracted by him.” 

“ Little maid,” said Mr. Carey, as he sat be- 
fore the cheerful fire in the living room that 
evening with Pen on his knee, holding Bunny in 
her arms and her head resting against her fa- 
ther’s shoulder, “ do you know what might have 
happened if you had waited another day before 
coming to live in this world? ” 

Pen bobbed up suddenly to look into his eyes 
and ask, “What?” while Mrs. Carey, who sat 
close beside them, peered into his face with a 
half puzzled, half amused look, as though she 
did not quite know what to expect next. 

Since the return of this little daughter Mr. 
138 


KING TO THE RESCUE 


Carey’s whole life seemed changed. From a 
saddened, grave man, he had grown as light- 
hearted as a hoy with some fun or nonsense ever 
at his tongue’s end. 

‘‘Yes,” continued Mr. Carey, touching Pen’s 
forehead, cheeks and chin with the tip of his 
finger, as though to assure himself that the 
little being upon his knee were real, and not the 
dream which many times during the three years 
past had caused him such anguish upon waking. 

“ Yes, had you been born on October 31st, in- 
stead of the 30th, you might have been a hobgob- 
lin,” and a sage nod emphasized his words. 

“ Everett ! What ideas are you going to put 
into the child’s head now ? ” half remonstrated 
Mrs. Carey. 

“Well, might she not? ” he asked, looking at 
his wife as though in surprise that she should 
question his statement. 

“ Wliat is a hobgoblin? ” broke in Pen eagerly. 

“Hobgoblins are creatures who go tearing 
about the world on Hallowe’en. Haven’t you 
ever seen one? ” 

“Mh! — Mh! Yes, I have! I saw a sure- • 
enough one down at Long Point last Hollow- 
139 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


Evening,” cried Pen. He came right by Aunt 
Mehitable’s bouse, and bis bead looked just like 
a punkin. Would I have been a punkin-bead if 
I’d been bom on Hollow-Evening? Wouldn’t 
I have looked funny? Where did that hobgob- 
lin I saw at Long Point come from, daddy? ” 

‘‘That’s bard to tell,” answered Mr. Carey 
soberly. “Was there only one?” 

“ Only one that time. It came right up to our 
kitchen door, and the next morning Aunt Mehit- 
able’s door mat was on the shed roof. Aunt Me- 
hitable said she’d like to catch Sally Fielder. 
Do you think Sally knew the hobgoblin, daddy? 
Afterwards I saw a lot of them running along 
the road and I wanted to watch them, but Aunt 
Mehitable said it wasn’t just nothing but fool 
work and made me go to bed.” 

“ Maybe Sally did know the hobgoblin,” said 
Mrs. Carey. “It seems to me she might have 
an intimate acquaintance with such creatures, 
from all I hear of her. But I think daddy is 
teasing you a little bit. The hobgoblins you 
saw were the children dressed up in all sorts of 
odd clothing, and carrying pumpkins hollowed 
out and candles placed inside. I think we must 
140 


KING TO THE EESCUE 


have a little Hallowe’en party to-morrow night. 
You will want to know some of the children 
who live near us, and this will he a merry way 
to meet them. Perhaps there will he some hob- 
goblin surprises for us after all,” said Mrs. 
Carey, little dreaming the form which the “ sur- 
prise ” would take. 


141 


CHAPTER XIII 


SALLY ASPIEES TO HIGHEB THINGS 

Now, just look at that frock ! Split clear 
from neck ter hem, ter say nothin’ of great 
splotches and stains all down it where yer’ve 
gone slap inter land knows what. And yer fair 
smell ter heaven o’ codfish. Ugh ! Pretty mess, 
ain’t iU And I only jist got yer decent ter begin 
school,” cried Mrs. Fielder, accompanying her 
words by some very energetic whacks. 

Sally Fielder was being disciplined, and when 
Sally came in for such an ordeal she was likely 
to bear witness thereto for several days, for 
Mrs. Fielder’s hand was not fairylike nor Mrs. 
Fielder’s voice of such gentle quality that Sally 
could fail to hear it — or, incidentally, the entire 
neighborhood. 

“ I couldn’t help it. I weren’t doin’ a single 
thing but stand and watch Mr. Hinkley fix his 
cod’s livers and then that hateful Jed Bean had 
142 


SALLY ASPIRES TO HIGHER THINGS 


ter come up and give me a push, and I fell right 
slap in the cask. Stop a-hittin’ me! Ain’t it 
bad enough ter have my dress all tom, and he 
scratched all ter pieces ’thout bein’ licked, too ! ” 
screamed Sally in hitter protest, her arms up- 
raised to protect her head and shoulders from the 
shower of blows falling thick and fast with each 
word her mother screamed at her. 

“ You’d no business ter have been there at all. 
If you’d a-gone on ter school and tended ter yer 
own affairs yer wouldn’t have got inter a mite 
er trouble. And now look! Here’s yer frock 
ruined, and I’d like to know where the next’s 
a-comin from. Yer pa ain’t likely ter pay fer 
it, land knows. If I didn’t do washin’ fer 
summer folks I’d like ter know where any- 
thing^ d come from,” bewailed Mrs. Fielder, 
storming about the untidy room until every 
object in it rattled as though from nervous 
terror. 

Guess if yer didn’t rave ’round so much 
mehhe he’d have more brains ter make more 
money,” retorted Sally from the doorway where 
she had fled as soon as released. Yer screech 
and holler loud ’nough ter make anybody crazy.” 
143 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


“ Shut yer noise,” stormed Mrs. Fielder, 
making a dive at Sally and tripping over baby 
Tilly, who was toddling about the room and 
to whom her wrath was promptly transferred, 
thereby giving Sally a chance to flee from the 
dash made at her. 

Sally certainly was a spectacle! Never very 
tidily clad and nearly always unkempt, she had 
brought things to a climax by falling into Old 
Uncle Hinkley’s ” cod-oil cask, when she tarried 
for a moment upon her way to school to watch 
him drain off the oil. Not that the sight was 
an unusual, or especially interesting one, for 
most people hurried by upon the farther side 
of the road during the operation, but Sally had 
a lively interest in all that took place in her 
native town, even the handling of codfish. So, 
clambering upon a pile of lumber which lay upon 
the wharf near the cask, she had peered down 
into it to see the owner remove the oil. Just 
then Jed Bean arrived upon the scene and Jed 
and Sally promptly had a sparring match, for 
Jed could not see Sally without tormenting her. 
A push, a tumble, a nail on the edge of the cask, 
and SaUy with both arms plunged forward into 
144 


SALLY ASPIRES TO HIGHER THINGS 


the horrid mess it contained, completed the 
catastrophe. 

Sally rushed away from her home and down 
the road crying, partly with rage, and partly 
with pain, for red welts had risen upon her arms 
and shoulders which were smarting cruelly. She 
had no very clear idea where she was going, her 
chief object being to get away from her mother 
and the turmoil at home. By chance, she ran up 
the “back road” which led across the brook 
where long ago she had met Jemima Starbright 
and tormented her and Bunny very much as 
she had so recently been tormented by Jed. The 
scene came back to Sally very vividly as she 
crossed the little bridge spanning the brook, and 
her pace slowed down until she came to a stand- 
still at the farther end of the bridge. Leaning 
her arms upon the railing she looked down upon 
the gurgling, tossing little stream, and recalled 
Tad’s championship of Jemima and her own 
punishment at his hands. 

There was no one in sight for all the older 
people were busied with their own concerns, and 
the children were in school. The clear October 
sunshine filled the frosty air and fell upon the 
145 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


unhappy little mortal, but carried small comfort 
to her rebellious soul. 

“Ain’t just nothin’ but scoldin’ and bangin’ 
from one week’s end ter another; I catch it in 
school, and I catch it ter home. Can’t do a 
single thing ’thout some one jumps on me — ^hate- 
ful old things. I wonder if ma thought I fell 
in that cask ’cause I wanted ter fall in. Ugh! 
How like time I do smell,” she cried, raising her 
arm to sniff at the evil-smelling sleeve which 
covered it. “ Wasn’t it bad er ’nough ter get all 
smelled up and spotted up like this ’thout get- 
tin’ licked, too? Ouch, how they smart!” and 
poor afflicted Sally rubbed her shoulders rue- 
fully. Then she looked down into the water 
again, and for a few moments silence reigned. 
Presently her lips were drawn into a queer 
pucker and her head began to nod like a Chinese 
toy mandarin’s. 

“ Betcher she wouldn’t. She ain’t never a-goin’ 
ter get no more whacks. My! musn’t it be 
nice ter have some one say, ‘ Come here, dar- 
lin’.’ ‘Would you like ter, sweetheart?’ She 
didn’t say a thing to her when she dropped her 
new white jacket on the dock and got a big splash 
146 


SALLY ASPIRES TO HIGHER THINGS 


o’ mud on it, only, ‘ Let mother take it, dear ; 
we can brush the mud off when it dries.’ No; 
not a single thing hut jist them very words, as 
soft and nice. An’ she weren’t scared a mite 
though I bet she’d a-heen if she’d a-done it when 
she was Miss Starbright’s little girl,” Sally said 
half aloud, so confusing her pronouns that no 
one but herself could possibly have understood 
whether she was referring to one person or half 
a dozen. Wisht I could hear her talk again. 
Wisht I could! So soft and sweet. ‘Would 
you like to go with us on the yacht? ’ ‘ We are 
going for a sail ; will you come with us ? ’ My, 
I kin hear her yet. Wisht I could hear it all 
once again. All she said when I fell down the 
hole was, ‘My poor little girl, come with me 
and let me put something on it,’ and she was 
just as kind and nice.” 

Unconsciously Sally had reproduced Mrs. 
Carey’s very voice and inflection. “An’ Je- 
mima lives there all the time an’ hears it. My ! 
Fd like ter. I wonder — ^I — ^won-der?” and 
Sally’s voice trailed off into silence. 

“ Hello, Sally I What in the name o’ man air 
ye standin’ here a-lookin’ down inter the brook 
147 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


ferl Why ain’t yer a-sayin’ yer multiplication 
table up yonder at school? ” cried Silas’s cheery 
voice. Sally jumped, for she had been too 
deeply absorbed in her reflections to be aware of 
his approach. 

“ Ha I Ha ! ” laughed Silas, giving her ear a 
playful tweak. “I made yer jump that time, 
didn’t I? But what ails ye? Yer look as if 
you’d been a-cryin’. What’s happened? And 
say! yer smell sort o’ loud, Sally. Whew! 
I sort o’ caught yer le’ward side that time. 
Where on airth have ye been? ” 

“ In old Uncle Hinkley’s cod cask,” was 
Sally’s laconic reply. 

Gosh ! I should think you had,^^ said Si, with 
a laugh. Might smell yer clear ter Highland 
Light. Why don’t you cut ’long home an’ git 
shet o’ that frock, and washed off? ” 

I did go home ter, and ma gave me a thrash- 
in’, an’ I ain’t goin’ there again for one 
while.” 

‘^But yer must, Yer can’t go ’round like 
this,^^ remonstrated Silas. 

‘‘I won%'*^ cried Sally. “Do you think I 
want another wallopin’ ? ” 

148 


SALLY ASPIRES TO HIGHER THINGS 


Silas looked for a moment at the forlorn little 
figure, and his heart softened. 

Come along o’ me, Sally,” he said, taking 
her by the hand. Yer can’t stand here all day 
long, and yer’ve got ter quit advertisin’ cod- 
liver ile; that’s sartin. Come on.” 

Sally went without a protest. 

“ Made a big haul this time, mammy,” cried 
Silas, as he drew near the kitchen door where his 
mother stood hanging her dish towels upon a 
line to dry. Might think from the strength 
that I’d landed nigh about a ton o’ cod, but ’tain’t 
so big as ter size after all ; essence sort o’ biled 
down so ter speak.” 

“ My soul and body. Si, what’s happened ter 
Sally Fielder now?” cried Mrs. Oldham, peer- 
ing at Sally over the tops of her glasses. 

Silas soon explained. 

“ Can’t yer sort o’ disinfect — fumigate — de- 
odise her, mother? May be some of a job, but 
I’d try it if I was you; just fer the reputation 
o’ the town.” 

“ You poor forlorn child,” cried Mrs. Oldham, 
when she had got the whole story. “ Kite ’long 
inter the shed yonder. I’m jist a-fixin’ ter 
149 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 

wash and one tub’s full of bilin’ suds this 
minit.” 

Sally quailed. The prospect of being plunged 
into “ bilin’ suds ” was not alluring. 

“ La, mother, be you a-goin’ ter scald her ter 
death! ” asked Si, his eyes twinkling. 

“ Reckon I’ve a grain or so o’ sense left,” 
retorted Mrs. Oldham, as she disappeared with 
Sally into the wash shed. 

“ Say, mother,” called Si, what’ll I do with 
this ten dollars Jo Hollis paid fer them cran- 
berries! I can’t lug all this wealth ’round all 
day long; it weighs half a ton; he paid every 
cent in silver.” 

“ Put it in the old tea caddy in the dinin’-room 
cupboard, then ; I’ll take care of it when I’ve got 
Sally fit ter live ’mongst folks. Now, you git 
out o’ those awful smellin’ things just as quick 
as yer can, and hop inter that tub an’ scrub fer 
dear life. Here, let me sprinkle a dash o’ ’monia 
in the water ; it’s famous ter take away a stench. 
And I’ll kite upstairs and git some clean clothes 
fer yer, fer those ain’t fit fer nothin’ in the world 
but buryin’ or burnin’,” and Mrs. Oldham hur- 
ried away to take from a chest in an upper 
150 


SALLY ASPIRES TO HIGHER THINGS 


chamber some under-garments, and a little gown, 
fashioned many years before for the one little 
daughter who had tarried with her only twelve 
years. 

An hour later Sally emerged clean as to gar- 
ments, sweet as to odor, hut antiquated as to 
appearance, for the clothing in which she was 
arrayed had been made eighteen years before. 
She surveyed herself with satisfaction neverthe- 
less, for the garments were scrupulously neat, 
smelled of the lavender sprigs in which they had 
so long been folded away, and — joy to Sally’s 
heart — boasted all their buttons, and not a single 
patch; an order of things quite unusual with 
Sally’s raiment. 

What must I do with ’em ? ” she asked. 

“ Why, wear ’em, to he sure. What did you 
think?” asked Mrs. Oldham. 

“ I thought you’d only just lent them to me,” 
answered Sally. 

“No; they’re yours ter keep. Land knows 
yer seem ter need ’em bad enough,” said Mrs. 
Oldham, taking up Sally’s discarded apparel and 
dumping it in a pile outside the house. “ There ; 
you’d better ask yer ma what she wants yer ter 
11 151 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


do with those things, but fer the land sakes don’t 
try ter take ’em home with yer now or yer might 
as well not a-heen tubbed.” 

I ain’t a-goin’ ter touch ’em; if she wants 
’em she kin send fer ’em,” assented Sally de- 
fiantly. 

Eighty — tighty,” cried Mrs. Oldham. 

No, I ainH! I’ve been whipped and banged 
just all I’m a-goin’ ter, and I’m goin’ where I’ll 
only hear nice things now, I wanted ter go 
before this but I ain’t never looked fit ter go no- 
where. Now I do, and I’m a-goin’ ; yes, I am, 
too,” added Sally with emphasis, for Mrs. Old- 
ham had smiled incredulously at Sally’s vehe- 
ment assertion. 

“Well, go ’long then; I can’t waste another 
minit,” and with a friendly nod Mrs. Oldham 
returned to the wash shed, and was soon elbow 
deep in suds with no further thought of her. 
Sally did not leave the premises immediately 
but sat down upon the back porch, presumably 
to watch the kittens — Bunny’s relatives — which 
were racing after each other upon the brick 
paved walk under the grape arbor. 

Perhaps an hour passed. Mrs. Oldham, busily 
152 


SALLY ASPIRES TO HIGHER THINGS 


occupied with her washing, gave little thought 
to the time. When the noon whistle blew she 
came forth to prepare dinner. Sally was no- 
where to be seen. 

“ Well, thank goodness, she went home 
a-smellin’ some sweeter’n when she come,” was 
Mrs. Oldham’s comment. 


153 


CHAPTEE XIV 


WHEN HOBGOBLINS FROLIC 

“ Oh, ain’t I funny, mother! Ain’t I funny ! ” 
cried Penelope, prancing about her mother’s 
room as seven was struck by the musical chimes 
of the clock upon the mantel shelf, on Hallow- 
e’en. 

Mrs. Carey had just completed Pen’s quaint 
little toilet, and a delightful little elf she was as 
she went prancing about the room. Green hose 
and little green slippers covered her feet and 
plump legs; a bright orange skirt stood out in 
all directions above it, with a queer little waist 
composed of what seemed to be innumerable 
green cambric leaves that flapped and waved as 
she flitted about. On her head was a queer 
little cap, also made of a big green cambric 
leaf, and surmounted by a monstrous stem, which 
hung from it and dangled down her back. Her 
golden curls bobbed beneath the cap and were 
154 


WHEN HOBGOBLINS FROLIC 

nearly as deep a yellow as her frock. In one 
hand she carried a little paper pumpkin with reg- 
ular hobgoblin features drawn upon it, and in 
the other a light wand, curiously like a pumpkin 
tendril. It had not taken Mrs. Carey long to 
procure the materials and fashion the funny 
little Hallowe’en costume when she had once 
made up her mind to give the Hallowe’en frolic 
for Penelope, and Pen was beside herself with 
delight. 

You are my jolly little pumpkin girl,” 
cried Mrs. Carey, clasping Pen’s hands to go 
dancing about the room with her and almost fall 
into Mr. Carey’s arms as he entered from the ad- 
joining room. 

“Hello! What wild doings are these?” he 
cried, as he caught them. “ Are all the hobgob- 
lins turned loose in my house to-night, mother? 
What has become of the staid, dignified lady 
who usually presides in my dwelling? ” 

“ She’s gone away forever and ever ! ” cried 
Mrs. Carey, clasping his face in both her hands 
and drawing it down to kiss his broad forehead. 
“ Yes, forever, and she repeated, “ be- 

cause a little pumpkin elf has come to teach her 
155 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


how to be as light-hearted as a little child. 
Come, little elf; let us show daddy what the 
elves can do on Hallowe’en,” and again taking 
Pen’s hands in hers she began to sing as she 
danced across the room: 

“ Let Peter Piper pick the peppers, 

Not a fig care I. 

Let little Jack pluck forth a plum 
From out his Christmas pie. 

Let every laddie have his lassie, 

A sweeter one have 7! 

Well prank and sing, — let voices ring, 

’Till Hallowe’ens gone by.” 

The rich voice rang merrily through the room, 
and Pen, quick as a flash to catch any melody, 
instantly took up the air and “ Annie Laurie ” 
with an impromptu nonsense rhyme for words 
was sung as a duet. 

The dance ended where it began; in Mr. 
Carey’s arms. 

‘‘ There ! ” cried Mrs. Carey. ‘‘ If that is not 
going hack to childhood days, tell me what is ? ” 

“ Thank God ! ” said Mr. Carey softly, holding 
her close to him for a moment while Penelope 
embraced his legs with all her might. 

156 


WHEN HOBGOBLINS FROLIC 


“ Now we must fly downstairs, for our ‘ party ’ 
will soon be coming in. Come, little Heart’s 
Ease,” and taking Pen’s band, Mrs. Carey went 
quickly from the room and down the broad old 
staircase. Pen bounding from step to step like 
the round pumpkin she represented. 

It was not a very numerous gathering nor a 
very formal affair, but I doubt if ever a White 
House assembly gave a one hundredth part of 
the pleasure to its guests or hostess that this 
party of nine little children gave to Penelope, 
gotten up, as it was, upon the spur of the mo- 
ment. Four wee lassies and five wee laddies 
came trooping in from neighboring houses in the 
guise of all manner of strange goblins. 

Will-o’-the-wisp was there; Puck, in funny 
furry clothes, suspiciously like an old fur coat 
turned into the tricksy spirit’s garment. Bats 
darted about; owls hooted; Boog-a-boo fright- 
ened everybody who ventured near him. 

For an hour, fun ran riot, and then Mrs. 
Carey announced supper, and the goblins fled to 
the dining room, where a table was spread with 
all the fanciful gimcracks deft fingers know how 
to fashion to delight little folks’ eyes. 

157 


LITTLE MISS CKICKET’S NEW HOME 


A brownie had just been rent ruthlessly asun- 
der, his legs remaining in Harold Carruth’s 
hands and his plump body in Penelope^s, to be 
quickly dismembered and become a funny little 
peaked cap, when a long and vigorous pounding 
was heard upon the front door. 

The children paused in the midst of their fun. 
King pricked up his ears and strode from the 
room to the hall, and Mr. and Mrs. Carey in- 
voluntarily turned their faces toward the door 
as a maid hurried down the hall. A moment 
later a strange voice was saying: 

“Is this Mis. Carey’s house? ” 

Then came the maid’s answer : 

“ Yes ; what do you want? You can’t see Mrs. 
Carey just now; she is entertaining to-night.” 

“I goiter see her; I come ter see her; she 
wants ter see me.” 

“I guess you must be mistaken. You’d bet- 
ter come back in the morning, though. Perhaps 
she wiU see you then, but she can’t just now.” 

“ I tell yer she does,^ and a foot was stamped 
in the vestibule. 

“ Well, you canH see her to-night, I tell you. 
Don’t you know better than to stand there saying 
158 


WHEN HOBGOBLINS FROLIC 


you’ve got to see a lady when her maid tells you 
she’s engaged with company? Who are you 
anyhow ? Give me your name and I’ll tell Mrs. 
Carey later when I have a chance.” 

“I tell you yer canH tell her later. I won’t 
he here later. I got ter stay here right now, an’ 
I ain’t a-goin’ away. I ain’t got no other place 
ter go ter and that’s why I’m here, I’ve come 
ter stay always-, I won’t go back home — so — 
there — now. Lemme go hy! I will see Mis. 
Carey.” 

Then arose a scuffle as though the maid were 
barring some one’s entrance, followed by a defi- 
ant screech of: “Yah! Yer thought yer could 
hold me — didn’t yer? Yah” and a rush down 
the haU toward the sound of the merry voices in 
the dining room. Mr. and Mrs. Carey rose to their 
feet, but before they could take a step from their 
chairs Sally Fielder stood in the doorway, and 
no hobgoblin seated at the table presented half 
the uncanny spectacle Sally presented at that 
moment. 

She was arrayed in a checked-gingham frock 
which came to her ankles and was cut in a fashion 
of long ago. On the top of this was a little plaid 
159 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


wool shawl, and surmounting all, a hat which 
strongly resembled the plumage of a defeated 
pugilistic rooster, to judge from the rampant 
state of the feathers adorning it. In one hand 
she held a small bundle tied up in what appeared 
to be a gingham apron, and in the other a little 
black handbag. A frowsier more blown-about 
little body it would have been hard to picture 
and it was not surprising that for a moment or 
two Mrs. Carey failed to recognize her recent 
guest upon the yacht. 

Not so Pen; she knew her instantly, and flying 
from her seat rushed toward Sally crying: 

“0 Sally! Sally! Where did you come 
from? ” and bore down upon the amazed Sally 
like a very lively little pumpkin. 

Sally actually drew back. She had not 
counted upon running fairly and squarely into 
an animated pumpkin or the retreat of goblins, 
although she little guessed how well she harmon- 
ized with the revelers. 

“ When did you come? ” cried Penelope, dan- 
cing about Sally and clasping and unclasping 
her hands in delight. 

By this time Mr. and Mrs. Carey and the 
160 


WHEN HOBGOBLINS FROLIC 


children had crowded about her, Mrs. Carey fin- 
ally succeeded in forcing her way to Sally’s side. 
Meanwhile, the maid had hurried after Sally in 
the vain hope of preventing her entrance into 
the dining room. 

“ Oh, ma’am ; oh, ma’am,” she cried. I 
tried my best to stop her hut she was like a 
wild cat to hold with her scratching and claw- 
ing.” 

It is all right, Annie. Never mind. I know 
the child and will attend to her,” replied Mrs. 
Carey and, laying her hand upon Sally’s arm 
she led her to a chair. 

“ Sit down there, Sally, and get your breath, 
then you can tell us what in the world brought 
you from Long Point so suddenly,” said Mrs. 
Carey, smiling in spite of herself as she looked 
at the little fright before her. 

Sally sat down, but bounced up again the next 
second to run and put her bundle and hag upon 
another chair, pausing on her way to look at the 
supper table and say: 

“My, ain’t that pretty! You’re all havin’ 
a splendid time, ain’t yer? My, hut I’m glad 
I come.” Then giving another comprehensive 
161 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


glance about the room, sbe returned to her chair, 
adding : “ Yes ; I come ter live with yer. I 
couldn’t stand it down there no longer. Look 
at that, and that, and and hastily push- 

ing up the big, bagging sleeves of her frock 
she disclosed cruel black and blue bruises upon 
her arms. 

“ Oh, my dear little girl ! How came you by 
such cruel bruises! Poor little arms,” cried 
Mrs. Carey compassionately, laying her hand 
gently upon the disfigured arms. 

“Ma done it bangin’ me ’cause I fell in old 
Uncle Hinkley’s cod-cask. Don’t hurt much 
now, ’cept when I hit up against somethin’. 
But I ain’t got over bein’ mad, ’cause she ain’t 
got no right ter beat me as she does; I ain’t a 
boss. So I ran away an’ come here where I 
knew Jemima — no — Pen — Pen — lope — what is 
your name now anyway? ” she ended in despera- 
tion, turning to Pen. 

“Pe — nel — o — pe,” answered Pen, speaking 
very slowly. 

“Land! Ain’t it a funny name though? 
Guess I can’t never call yer nothin’ but Pen. 
Well ; I come here where you are, ’cause I knew 
162 


WHEN HOBGOBLINS FROLIC 


you didn’t never git banged nowy ’though yer 
used ter. That makes yer know how it feels.” 

“But, Sally,” interrupted Mr. Carey, “how 
in the name of all that is wonderful did you find 
your way here at olU Who gave you our ad- 
dress, and told you how to come? Who paid 
your way here? ” 

“ Huh ! ” retorted Sally. “ Do you think I 
can’t find out a thing when I want ter? I got 
yer address at the post office. I went down 
there and told Mis. Treat Mr. Oldham wanted 
it and she wrote it all out fer me. See? There 
it is,” and Sally produced from a pocket a 
slip of paper upon which was clearly written : 

Mr. Everett Carey, 

Beech Lawn, 95 Loring Place, 
Brookline, Mass. 

“ Yes ; that is all as clear as daylight, but how 
did you find it, is what I would like to know.” 

“Why, it weren’t so terrible hard though it 
were — some — too ; I couldn’t go aizi/where ’thout 
money ter pay my way, of course, so I took some 
out o’ the tea-caddy — I don’t know just how 
much — ’cause I didn’t stop ter count it; I just 
163 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 

dumped it out. But it was plenty. I’ve got 
some left in my bag ; here it is ; you better take 
care of it now,” ended Sally, jumping up to 
get her bag and hand it to Mr. Carey. 

Whose tea-caddy,” broke in Mrs. Carey, her 
face a study. 

Mis. Oldham’s. Si had just put ten dollars 
in it all in silver money, so I knew just where 
it was, and ” 

“ Did you ask for it? ” demanded Mrs. Carey. 

‘‘Oh, no; I just took it while Mis. Oldham 
was a-washin’ out in the shed. I knew she 
wouldn’t let me have it if I asked, so I didn’t. 
I had to have it.” 

Sally paused as though her words admitted 
of absolutely no argument. Mrs. Carey clasped 
her hands in her lap resignedly. Mr. Carey 
broke into a peal of laughter. Sally looked up 
at him and nodded, as though she fully appreci- 
ated his point of view. 

“ Go on, Sally,” said Mr. Carey, when he could 
speak. “ This is the richest Hallowe’en prank 
I’ve ever heard of.” 

“ Then I went back home while ma was out 
and I took the things that belong to me and made 
164 


WHEN HOBGOBLINS FROLIC 


’em into that bundle, and got ma’s hat and shawl 
and ran down to the boat. Didn’t anybody know 
me when I got on hoard and by and by we got 
ter Boston. Then I asked my way and people 
told me how ter come out here on them cars that 
go so fast, and — here I am. I’m awful glad, 
too. It’s a splendid place, and I’m goin’ ter 
stay — a while, anyhow, till I get rested and 
’quainted better. Then — then — ^why, then I guess 
I’ll — ^well, mebhe I’ll have a store like Miss 
Hibby, down at Long Point, and sell things an’ 
get lots of money and buy a house like this. 
But can I have some o’ them things to eat! I’m 
awful hungry.” 

‘‘ Poor little girl, you must he famishing not 
to have eaten since dinner time and it is long 
after eight. Annie, bring some more sandwiches 
and also a cup of chocolate,” cried Mrs. Carey in 
compunction, hastily conducting Sally to the 
supper table, while the other children vied with 
one another in their eagerness to serve her. 

“I didn’t have no dinner; I was afraid I’d 
miss the boat if I went away from the wharf. 
Yes, I am hungry,” said Sally, falling upon her 
food like a famishing little animal. 

165 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


‘‘Nothing to eat since morningl^^ cried Mrs. 
Carey in dismay. 

“ No — ’m,” answered Sally, her mouth 
crammed full of sandwich. 

But even a Fielder’s power of endurance had 
a limit and fifteen minutes later forlorn Sally 
was fast asleep, her head pillowed upon her arm 
which rested upon the table near a jack o’ lan- 
tern pumpkin that looked scarcely less elfish and 
wizened than the weary little face beside it. 


166 


CHAPTER XV 


“ WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH HER? ” 

Penelope looked at the sleeping Sally a mo- 
ment, a strange expression stealing over her face 
as she did so and her fingers twining and inter- 
twining nervously, as was her habit when per- 
plexed. Then without a moment’s warning she 
sprang into her mother’s lap, clasped her arms 
about her neck and burst into tears. 

“Why, my darling! WTiat is the matter? 
Wliy do you sob like this?” cried Mrs. Carey, 
striving to unclasp the clinging arms. “WRat 
is it, dear? ” 

“ Sa — Sally,” sobbed Pen. “ She — she’s been 
whipped so hard. Do — donH let them do it 
any — any more.” 

“WRy, we will do all we can to prevent it, 
little one. But the first thing to think of now is 
to put her to bed, for she is a weary little girl. 
To-morrow, we will see what can be done for her, 
12 167 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


and we must send word to her home ; for I am 
sure they will he greatly alarmed by her dis- 
appearance. Annie, take this little girl upstairs 
and tuck her snugly away in the small guest 
chamber; I will come up later to see that all is 
well. Now, little people, let us go on with our 
frolic,” and a few moments later Sally Fielder 
was sleeping the sleep of utter weariness and lost 
to all the world, while below her ten little chil- 
dren played all manner of Hallowe’en pranks. 

It was long past nine o’clock before Sally wak- 
ened the following morning and sat up dazed 
and bewildered by her strange surroundings. 
Meanwhile, below stairs, Mr. and Mrs. Carey, 
with Pen squatting upon a cushion at her moth- 
er’s feet, were holding a consultation regarding 
the runaway. A telegram had been sent upon its 
way to Long Point the night before to allay anx- 
iety in that quarter, although, if the truth must 
be confessed, Mrs. Fielder had not been made 
ill from the suspense. Her children did a good 
deal of shifting for themselves and Sally had 
more than once disappeared for hours at a time ; 
having even been known to spend a balmy sum- 
mer’s night in the woods, for fear was unknown 
168 


^‘WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH HER?” 


to her. So Mrs. Fielder accepted the situation 
quite philosophically, feeling sure that Sally 
would sooner or later turn up as good as new : a 
very comforting state of mind to dwell in if 
one can compass it; most mothers cannot — 
happily. 

So thafs where she’s got ter, is it! ” was Mrs. 
Fielder’s comment upon receiving the message. 

Well, I might a-known she’d git ter most any 
place she set out ter git, I wish ’em joy o’ her. 
They’ll he glad enough ter send her kitin’ hack 
before the week’s out. I’ll bet a stiver. But I’ll 
git one week’s peace anyhow,” and with this 
keen manifestation of maternal solicitude, Mrs. 
Fielder polished off a pan with a piece of paper 
and put it into a cupboard at hand; it took too 
much time to wash frying pans, and what was the 
use anyway? They got just as greasy again the 
next time they were used, and — as everybody 
knows — a well-used pan browns potatoes far 
quicker than a well-scoured one. 

But if Sally’s present situation caused her 
mother no concern, it certainly caused Mr. and 
Mrs. Carey considerable. 

^^What shall we do with her? repeated Mrs. 
169 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET^S NEW HOME 


Carey, having already asked that question more 
than once since Sally’s arrival. 

It seems to me there is only one answer to 
that question: send her hack home,” was Mr. 
Carey’s reply. 

“ Everett, I just can't do it! When I think of 
Penelope’s experiences at Miss Starhright’s and 
her harshness with the child, and then find Sally 
so neglected and misused, I begin to wonder 
what some women must he made of. No ; if I 
can persuade Mrs. Fielder to let me have charge 
of the child for a time I shall keep her ” 

“ What! Keep her here? ” broke in Mr. Carey 
in dismay. 

‘^Draw an easy breath,” cried Mrs. Carey, 
laughing at his comical expression. “No; not 
here. I’m afraid we would have to move out if 
Sally took up her quarters under our roof. But 
I have been thinking very seriously ever since 
last evening, and I believe Professor Ruhe’s 
school would be just the place for that little 
madcap. There she will have firm, but gentle 
and just training and if there is anything in the 
child — and I think she has given us pretty good 
proof that there is — ^he will be sure to make the 
170 


“WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH HER!” 


most of it. At any rate it is worth the experi- 
ment, I believe and I mean to try it. By and 
by I shall go over there and see what arrange- 
ments can be made for her.” 

“And who is to pay the piper! ” asked Mr. 
Carey, with a quizzical look. 

“ I think the exchequer can stand the demand 
upon it, and one little woman may become a 
wiser and a better one when she grows to be a 
big one,” replied Mrs. Carey, as she patted Pen’s 
upturned face, and then, rising from her chair, 
said : “ I must go and look after that same little 
woman right now or there is no telling what 
may happen next ; she may develop a fancy for 
scientific research and smother us all with illu- 
minating gas.” 

And so it came about that before three days 
had passed, Sally Fielder had become an inmate 
of Professor Ruhe’s school — an institution quite 
unlike the average school and the object of a 
good deal of criticism upon the part of certain 
individuals who believed that children should be 
mentally stuffed like Strasburg geese. But of 
Professor Ruhe hereafter. 

Mrs. Fielder’s consent had been won without 
171 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


the least difficulty. In reply to Mr. Carey’s 
second telegram, “ May we keep Sally with us 
for several weeks! We will look to her wel- 
fare. Answer at my expense,” had come this 
very characteristic reply ; 

“ Land, yes ; keep her for several years if you 
want to. I’ve got about all 1 can fly under with 
all the other young ones to take care of. Sara 
Jane Fielder.” 

Mrs. Fielder meant to embrace all of her op- 
portunities. Telegrams were rare extravagan- 
ces and some one else was paying for this one. 

And so the weeks fled away. November’s 
days — pleasant or gloomy — ^were stricken from 
the calendar, and December set people thinking 
of Christmas day. 

Christmas day! What had Christmas day 
ever meant to little Penelope! She had no rec- 
ollection whatever of the Christmas days spent 
in this home before her life at Miss Starbright’s 
began, and Christmas day at Miss Starbright’s 
had been very much like any other day. In 
some of the homes of Long Point Christmas day 
meant a good deal, but “Jemima Starbright” 
had not visited among them, and no frolics, 
172 


^^WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH HER! 


merry-making, or fun of any sort, with wild 
scramblings for a bumpy stocking in the early 
morning hours, had ever caused Jemima’s ” 
eyes to shine or her cheeks to glow with excite- 
ment. 

A few weeks before the blessed day which 
brings joy, peace, and gladness to old and young 
alike, Mrs. Carey sat in her morning room en- 
gaged upon some fancy work. It was a crisp, 
cold morning with the sunlight sparkling upon 
the snow which covered the ground and lay in 
heavy patches upon the trees. 

In the room next her Penelope was playing 
with Janet, as she had christened her doll, and 
was singing to it a queer, piping little song, 
quite impromptu evidently, in which bird notes 
and words were about equally divided. 

Three months had wrought a marked change 
in the little girl, although many more than three 
would be needed to entirely overcome the odd 
little tricks of speech acquired at Long Point. 

Robin — Robin Redbreast — ” then came a 
trill so real that one almost started to look for 
the bird itself, followed once more by the words 
of the song; then a pause. Presently: 

173 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


“ Janet, I think you are the most best, beauti- 
ful dolly I ever saw. Now hold up your chin 
and let me tie your bunnit — wo, bonnet strings. 
But ’tain’t — oh, dear. Mother said I ought not 
say ’tain’t : it isnH correct to. Don’t you say it, 
Janet, will you? There, now! You’re just 
splendid. Shall we go outdoors? Let’s go ask 
mother if we can,” and Penelope came running 
into her mother’s room to ask: 

“Mother, Moddie, Janet and me — ^no, 1 — 
want to go out and play in the snow. Can we? ” 

Mrs. Carey took the beaming little face in 
both her hands as she replied: 

“Are your legs willing?” Penelope looked 
mystified for a moment, then answered : 

“ Well, I guess they are. See? ” and wagged 
first one foot and then the other. 

“Are your arms willing?” continued Mrs. 
Carey. 

Penelope waved her arms up and down as 
though about to fly. 

“ Then, I think you caw,” said Mrs. Carey, 
smiling into the happy little face raised to hers. 

“ Oh, 1 know what you want me to say,” cried 
Pen. ^^May we go out and play in the snow? 
174 


^‘WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH HER! 


I got it, didn’t I! Isn’t it funny, mother! 
Isn’t it funny how we may say can in Long 
Point, but have got to say may in Brookline! ” 

^‘Very funny indeed, sweetheart. But run 
out with dolly if you wish to ; it’s such a beauti- 
ful morning,” and away sped Pen, and a few 
moments later was running over the snow-cov- 
ered lawn, a veritable robin redbreast herself, 
in her little red coat and hat. Janet sat in state 
upon a sled, her small mamma delighted to be 
her blood horse. King was their companion and 
raced through the snow or rolled in it ecstatic- 
ally, for snow was King’s delight. 

Presently in the course of their prankings they 
came to the side entrance of the house. A 
butcher’s cart had just driven in, and the horse 
— carelessly blanketed — stood shivering in the 
sharp air, his ears laid back and wretchedness 
stamped upon him. Just as Penelope turned the 
comer of the house a gust of wind raised one 
end of the blanket and flapped it back so the 
poor horse was colder than ever. 

Penelope did not hesitate an instant. Walk- 
ing up to the creature, whose expression might 
have caused a more experienced person to think 
175 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


twice before approaching him, she said in her 
soft little voice : 

“ Poor horse ; poor horse ; you’re so dreadful 
cold, aren’t you? Your blanket’s ’most off. 
I’ll fix it,” and reaching up as high as she could 
she caught hold of the end of the tattered thing 
and tugged it into place. 

Over the tired, fretted creature’s face stole a 
look almost human as he reached down to sniff 
at the tiny figure beside him. The big head was 
as long from nose to ear tip as his tiny benefac- 
tress was tall. 

“ Poor old horse! You like me just like Sally 
used to, don’t you? I love you, too,” and two 
little arms embraced the head nestling so close 
to her. Perhaps a pathetic little history would 
have been whispered into Penelope’s ear could 
the horse have spoken, for recollections of hap- 
pier days and gentler treatment may have 
flashed through his horse mind at the gentle 
touch. That is the pathos of their lives; well 
treated while young and active ; abused and neg- 
lected when man’s thoughtlessness has nearly 
wrecked them, yet powerless to protest or tell 
of happier days. Surely something of earlier 
176 


WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH HER? 


scenes must have passed through this animars 
brain, for presently he began to nicker softly and 
raise up his right forefoot, as a less weary light 
crept into his eyes. 

^‘What do you want? Do you want me to 
shake hands with you? ” asked Pen, seeming to 
divine his wishes. 

Penelope reached out two little red-mittened 
hands and a huge hoof was placed in them. A 
second later the horse’s driver came running 
out of the kitchen, to stop petrified and exclaim : 

Oh, Lordy 1 She’ll he killed fer sure ! ” and 
then hurry toward the group. 

Perhaps Fate felt that one poor creature quite 
incapable of relating his tribulations, had been 
sufficiently buffeted about — so relented. How- 
ever, that might he, Mrs. Carey appeared at 
that instant, having put on her things to join 
Pen for she could hardly bear to have her away 
from her side. Intuitively grasping the situa- 
tion, she raised her hand to the negro boy and 
uttered one word : 

“ Stop!” 

He was too startled to do anything but obey 
her. 


177 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


“ Step back into the kitchen and ask Molly to 
give you three lumps of sugar. Do you under- 
stand? ” 

“ Yas’m ; I does,” and Africa vanished within 
the kitchen door. Reappearing a moment later 
he handed the sugar to Mrs. Carey. Advan- 
cing gently she said to Penelope: 

“Here, sweetheart; give Brownie a lump of 
sugar as a reward for his gentleness. Hold 
your palm out flat so he can take the sugar with- 
out taking a finger by way of relish.” 

“ Is his name Brownie? ” asked Pen. “ How 
did you know? ” 

“ I don’t know ; I call him Brownie because he 
is brown, and I fancy he would soon learn to 
know the name.” 

Pen took the sugar and did as she was told. 
The horse munched it with a relish. 

“Now, ask him to shake hands again, dear. 
Say : ‘ Shake hands. Brownie.’ ” 

“ Shake, Brownie ; shake hands with me,” re- 
peated Pen. Again the hoof was offered and 
another lump disappeared. A third shake, and 
a third reward, and into one overworked ani- 
mal’s life had come a ray of sunshine, brought 
178 


“WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH HER! 


to pass by a little child’s love for all living 
creatures, and one woman’s quick comprehension 
of their natures. How much oftener the ray 
might fall if human beings gave more thought 
to the dumb ones dependent upon them. 

From that moment Brownie rarely missed his 
caress and the lump of sugar which he invari- 
ably acknowledged with a hoof-shake. 


179 


CHAPTER XVI 


“ GOOD WILL TOWABD MEN ” 

Darkness had fallen and the short winter day- 
had drawn to a close. Without, the snow lay 
soft and white upon the earth, and all the world 
shone in a silvery radiance from the great round 
moon hanging above the treetops. Within doors 
the very spirit of Home seemed to have taken 
up her abode for the room glowed in the 
light of the flames which went dancing up the 
wide chimney and warmth, peace and comfort 
seemed to pervade every nook and corner of 
the house. 

Close to the crimson-curtained window stood 
Penelope, her little nose almost touching the 
glass as she peered through it to look upon the 
fairylike scene beyond. 

Presently a soft footfall caused her to turn her 
face toward the room and smile a greeting at her 
mother. 


180 


GOOD WILL TOWAED MEN 


‘^What is my girlie doing here all by her- 
self? ” asked Mrs. Carey, laying a hand each 
side of Pen’s face and bending toward her. 

I’m making stories about the moon and the 
snow. They make me do it when I look at them ; 
I can’t help it, you know. There’s something 
inside me that sings, sings, sings and goes this 
way,” answered Penelope, breaking into a little 
lilting song — soft, tender and suggestive of elf- 
land bells. Then raising her finger to her ear, 
she turned her head slightly to one side and 
asked, “ Hark ! Can’t you hear it, too ? ” It is 
right out there in the moonlight. Do you see 
those little streaks of light that come down, 
down, down right straight from the moon to the 
tip tops of the pine trees? Well, fairies are 
walking down on them ; it is their bridge of sil- 
ver, and that is the way they come from the 
moon where they live.” 

“Won’t they be cold, dear?” asked Mrs. 
Carey softly, intentionally making use of a ma- 
terial suggestion, for this little daughter was a 
constant source of wonder and, if it must be con- 
fessed, anxiety, too, at times ; she seemed so un- 
like other children but dwelt in a small “ Wun- 
181 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


der-Welt” of her own, peopled by imaginary 
beings. 

“ Ob, no : fairies are never cold. Everything 
is always just right wherever they are. Don’t 
you know the story book said so?” asked Pen 
seriously. ^‘Yes they come down their silver 
bridge and dance out there in the moonlight just 
this way,” and taking hold of her skirts Penel- 
ope went flitting about the room, a veritable 
fairy herself. Suddenly she paused, hesitated 
a moment, and then said : “ Shall we sing what 
the fairies were singing? I can do it; come,” 
and danced over to the piano. Clambering upon 
the stool she laid her tiny hands upon the key- 
board, turned toward her mother and without fur- 
ther glance at the keys began to play a delicate, 
dreamy little theme, weird and sweet in its minor 
cadences, accompanying it with her voice and 
improvised words: 

“ Silvery moon, pure white snow; 

Pretty fairies come and go. 

Silver bridge, down from the sky; 

Lady moon, up high; up high; 

Sing, sing, the fairies fly; 

Sing — sing — sing — sing.^^ 

182 


GOOD WILL TOWAED MEN 


As the last word died away Mrs. Carey 
dropped upon her knees beside the piano chair, 
and clasping her arms around Pen asked : 

“Little one, who taught you that song? 
Where did you hear it? You surely must have 
learned it somewhere ? 

“No, I didn’t learn it. It didn’t get taught to 
me at all. It just lived right inside me, and I 
had to sing it, you know. It wouldn’t stay 
there any longer,” and the golden head was 
wagged solemnly to emphasize this statement, the 
firelight dancing upon the curls. 

“ But the accompaniment? Did Miss Eliza- 
beth teach you to play upon her piano while you 
were at Long Point? Surely some one must 
have done so? ” 

“ N-n-o-o,” replied Penelope — lengthening the 
word to make it the more impressive. “No, 
she didn’t never. She played for me. I just 
singed the things she wanted me to. This 
is the first piano I ever played on and the fairies 
made me, I guess. They got into my fingers, 
don’t you see, and made me do it. I couldn’t 
help it if they wanted me to, could I? ” 

“No, I don’t believe you could,” answered 
13 183 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET^S NEW HOME 


Mrs. Carey quite seriously. The fairies are 
very persistent little creatures and usually have 
their own way. Did they put the words of the 
song into your head, too ? ” 

Um, Um ! ” nodded Pen. “ Right in this 
way through my ears and it popped out of my 
mouth. That’s the way the birds used to do 
down at Long Point, you know. They’d sing in 
my ears and then I had to sing it right out of my 
mouth. The birds have all gone away now — 
way, way otf to the ‘Warm South Land’ you 
told me about, where they don’t have snow in 
the winter time; and the flowers grow all the 
time. Can we go there some day, mother? 
I’d like to go to that place,” and two soft hands 
reached out to pat Mrs. Carey’s cheeks. 

“I think we can, some day. But can’t you 
play for me again, and sing another little 
song? They are very sweet, and I love to hear 
them.” 

Pen withdrew her hands from her mother’s 
face, looked for a moment at her finger tips, then 
answered : 

“ They’ve gone hack home to the moon ; right 
out through the windowpane. They aren’t in 
184 


GOOD WILL TOWAED MEN 


my fingers any more. No; I guess they can’t 
play for you, or sing for you, for a little while. 
They’re tired, I’m afraid. Some other time, 
maybe. Will that do ? ” 

Mrs. Carey looked at the child before her, a 
whirl of puzzling thoughts passing through her 
brain, for Pen was an endless source of marvel. 
The little face turned so soberly to hers had not 
a particle of self-consciousness in it, nor had 
any of Pen’s words or actions for the past few 
moments indicated in the least that she was 
aware that she was doing anything out of the 
ordinary. Yet she had just given a most extraor- 
dinary demonstration of imaginative powers 
and musical talent. 

Fearing to waken her to a consciousness of 
this and thus spoil its charm, Mrs. Carey has- 
tened to say : 

Poor little fairies ; we must not tax them if 
they are tired. They will come again some day, 
I know. Perhaps they have gone back home to 
talk about Christmas, for that is what everyone 
is talking about now. Suppose we do, too. Let 
us sit down in that low chair before the fire 
and plan what we shall do when Christmas day 
185 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


comes. Shall we?” asked Mrs. Carey, taking 
Pen’s hand to lead her to a chair. 

“ What do we do on Christmas day ? ” asked 
Pen, nestling upon her mother’s shoulder. We 
never did anything on Christmas day at Aunt 
Mehitable’s. I don’t believe Aunt Mehitable 
knows much about Christmas day. Does she 1 ” 
and Pen sat straight up for a second to look 
into her mother’s face. 

Not know about Christmas day, sweet- 
heart? ” asked Mrs. Carey incredulously. Did 
Aunt Mehitable never tell you about Christmas 
day, and the coming of the little Christ Child to 
bring good will to all men? Did you not keep 
Christmas day at Aunt Mehitable’s, little one? ” 
“ No, we didn’t keep it. How do you keep a 
day? We can’t keep a day, can we? They all 
get to be nights pretty soon. Is Christmas day 
a day we can keep longer than any other day? ” 
asked Penelope deeply puzzled. 

Mrs. Carey smiled at the little girl’s literal 
interpretation of her words. 

“I do not mean the power to keep the day 
with us longer than any other day, darling, but 
to make very merry on that day and try to hold 
186 


GOOD WILL TOWARD MEN 


in our hearts only kind and loving thoughts for 
our friends. To send them tokens of our affec- 
tion and our good will, because that is the reason 
the Christ Child came into the world; to bring 
love and good will to all.” 

“ Tell me all about the Christ Child,” begged 
Pen, clasping her hands and snuggling close in 
her mother’s embrace. Tell me where He came 
from, and who sent Him and what He did. 
Everything. I don’t believe Aunt Mehitahle 
ever knew Him, did she? ” 

I am afraid she must have forgotten Him,” 
said Mrs. Carey gently. 

Then you tell me all about Him, and when 
I see Aunt Mehitahle I’ll tell her the story all 
over again. Maybe she’ll ’member if I tell her 
just the parts I can tell right; I’m all ready.” 
And there in the soft light of the flickering 
flames, her little daughter clasped close in her 
arms, Mrs. Carey told the old, old story of the 
coming of the Christ Child into our world and 
told it with a tenderness she little guessed for it 
was very, very real to her, and the little child she 
held in her arms seemed at times almost unreal ; 
her mind in some directions was so dwarfed, and 
187 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


ignorant of the facts which most children know 
as a matter of course. Yet in others it was filled 
with a knowledge far beyond the grasp of the 
average child. 

The soft murmur of her voice went on and 
on for more than an hour, punctuated at inter- 
vals by Pen’s questions. When the story was 
ended, Pen raised her head from her mother’s 
shoulder and looked steadily into the fire 
for a few moments. Mrs. Carey did not 
break the silence but watched the expressive 
little face, illumined by the blaze. Presently 
Pen said softly : Then we couldnH be bad if 

we did what He wanted us to; could we? He 
loved everybody, didn’t He? 1 did too; once. 
Then I got real bad at Aunt Mehitable’s, and I — 
I — didnH love her so very much. That was bad, 
wasn’t it? But I loved everybody elsel Yes 
I did — truly: everybody. Even Sally Fielder, 
’cause she — she — ^well, she’s just sort o’ funny. 
But I didnH love Aunt Mehitable so very hard 
just before I ran away. But He would have — 
wouldn’t He? I guess He wouldn’t have cared 
if she was cross, and hurt his bunnycat. Did 
He have a bunnycat? Did He love pets, too? ” 
188 


GOOD WILL TOWARD MEN 


and the pure little face looked into Mrs. Carey’s 
in all seriousness. 

“He may have had, dear. He lived a long, 
long time ago, you know. He loved every living 
creature, so I do not doubt they loved Him too, 
and were often petted and caressed by Him. 
It is a beautiful thought to hold to ; that nothing 
was too humble to claim His love and attention. 
So we will believe He had many dumb creatures 
to love Him.” 

“Yes, yes, I like that. I’d like the Christ 
Child to love the horses and dogs and cats and 
birds and all — all the animals I love. And He 
loved even the people who were not nice to Him, 
didnT He? And He wanted everybody else 
to, too. Um.” Then silence again. “Mother, 
what are we going to do on the Christ Child’s 
birthday? ” 

“All in our power to make others happy, 
dear. That is what I want you to help me plan. 
To help me think of all those we know or love, 
and what we can do to make them understand 
it, and carry happiness to them on Christmas 
day. We ourselves will be very, very happy, 
I know, for we have our darling little daughter 
189 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


with us after three long years of separation. 
That alone is a rich gift, and I am sure the 
Christ Child sent it for our great happiness.” 

Will anybody else he with us ? ” asked Pen. 

I hardly think so, dear.” 

“ Couldn’t we have anybody else if we wanted 
to, and make them happy, too ? ” 

“Why, yes, sweetheart. We might invite a 
great many guests for Christmas day, I dare- 
say, but daddy and I thought we would he hap- 
pier to have with us just the one we love best 
in all this big, big world: our dear little girl,” 
said Mrs. Carey, as she stroked the sunny curls. 

“Is it all snowy and cold at Long Point 
now 1 ” was Pen’s next question. 

“I am sure it must be very, very bleak and 
cold down there at this season. Do you remem- 
ber what it was like last Christmas season, 
dear? ” 

“Yes, it was dreadful cold and snowy. It 
snowed all day long and when night came the 
snow was so deep we couldn’t get out to feed 
the chickens. Some men had to come with shov- 
els and dig ’em out. And we heard the guns 
out hack on the ocean side. They went ‘ boom — 
190 


GOOD WILL TOWAED MEN 


boom — boom’ nearly all day, and a man told 
Aunt Mehitable that a ship was on the bar and 
firing guns for help. But they couldn’t get to 
her ’cause the storm was so bad and the waves 
so big. Some sailors were drowned that day,” 
said Pen in an awed whisper. ‘^Aunt Mehit- 
able walked round the house all the time the 
guns were booming, and when I asked her what 
made her do it she said, ‘ God Almighty only 
knows what vessel ’tis; we don’t.’ She was 
frightened, wasn’t she! And she’s there now — 
all alone, isn’t she! Do you think she’s lone- 
some! I didn’t like her house as well as this; 
this is all so warm and pretty. We can’t hear 
the wind go ‘ wooooh, wo-o-o-o-h, wo-o-o-o-o-h ’ 
’round this house like it does ’round Aunt Mehit- 
able’s. I think Aunt Mehitable would like this 
house — and — and — please, please ’vite her to 
spend the little Christ Child’s birthday here, 
’cause I know she’s lonely without me ! ” and 
Pen flung her arms about her mother and buried 
her head in her neck. 


191 


CHAPTER XVII 


WHAT A LETTER DID AT LONG POINT 

“ Si ! Si Oldham ! Come here a minit. I want 
ter show you something. Come right along in: 
donT mind the snow ; I kin brush that out easy 
’nough. Come, quick ! ” 

Mehitable Starhright stood in her kitchen 
porch, one hand clasping a little shawl about her 
head, the other frantically waving a letter as she 
called to Silas Oldham plowing his way through 
the great snowdrifts which lay waist high along 
the road and fences. 

Hello ! ” answered Si, raising his arm to 
shelter his face from the driving, stinging snow- 
flakes which were whirling all about him as 
though striving to bar his progress. “Hello, 
Mehitable! Gorry! What you a-doin’ out there 
in this blizzard? Go indoors Tore you freeze 
stiff ; it’s cold ’nough to freeze an Injun.” 

“Never mind the cold; come ’long in, quick: 
192 


WHAT A LETTER DID 


I want yer. I got ter ask somethin\ I want 
for you to see this letter,” cried Mehitable 
apparently impervious to either snow or cold in 
her excitement. 

Lordy ! What^s a-doin’,” cried Silas as he 
turned toward the little gate almost buried from 
sight in a deep drift. Huh, ain’t a mite er use 
ter try ter open that, is there? So, here goes,” 
and with a mighty hound Si landed in Mehit- 
ahle’s garden and waded through the snow to her 
door. 

Whew ! ” he cried, shaking himself like a 
great Newfoundland dog to free his cap and 
coat from their coating of snow. “I’m nigh 
about snowed under, fer a fact. Better not let 
me come indoors; I’ll leave drifts wherever I 
sit.” 

“Leave a whole snowbank if yer want ter,” 
was Mehitable’s reckless reply. “ There’s worse 
things than snowdrifts in the world and better 
ones, ^00.” 

Silas looked at her for a moment and an odd 
light came into his eyes. A year ago a patch of 
snow as big as his hand upon her kitchen floor 
would have thrown Mehitable Starbright into a 
193 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


state of mind hot enough to melt it in half a 
minute. But a year had done a good deal for 
Mehitable. 

What’s up ? ” he asked. “ Somethin’ serious 
happened? Been stormin’ so like all tarnation 
for the past twenty-four hours that half the town 
might a-died and the other half not known it. 
Most of ’em have got ter be shoveled out. How’s 
yer hins? Had anything ter eat? ” 

“ They ain’t a-sufferin’ ; I got out last night 
and give ’em water and enough ter eat ter last 
a good spell, and got some eggs and a good 
sight o’ dry stuff and wood in fer myself. But 
never mind the hens just now; I’ve got some- 
thin’ beside hens ter think about. Read that ! ” 
and Mehitable thrust into his hands the letter 
she held. 

Silas turned up the ear flaps of his cap, pushed 
back the vizor, and removing the cap, laid it 
upon the chair and took the letter; Mehitable 
meanwhile standing before him with arms 
akimbo and an expression which said as clearly 
as any words could have done: “Now if you 
can beat that I’d just like to see you do it ! ” 
Silas read the letter through before making 
194 


Y/HAT A LETTER DID 


any comment whatsoever, then handing it back 
to her he smiled and said; “Pretty slick, ain’t 

itr’ 

“ Slick ! Slick ! ” repeated Mehitable. “ Why 
there ain’t a word in the whole English language 
that can name what that letter is. Si Oldham. 
There ain’t a word in no language that can. 
There weren’t never anything wrote before, and 
there won’t never be again that can come any- 
where near to it. And she wrote it, and she 
told her what ter write; don’t yer see she says 
so in her part,” cried Mehitable, muddling her 
pronouns past all understanding and leaving Si- 
las to parcel them out hit or miss. “ AMt it beau- 
tiful? Ain’t it the prettiest thing you ever see? 
But it beats my time. It beats my time that 
either of ’em wants me. But they do-^ that’s 
clear as daylight, ain’t it? ” asked Mehitable, the 
eager note in her voice proving how strong was 
her desire to have any doubt dispelled. 

“ Why sartin’s the world ! ” replied Silas 
emphatically. “ There ain’t a shadow o’ doubt 
on that score.” 

“No, I didn’t think there was. But read it 
to me again, Si ; I’ve read that letter forty times 
195 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


since I got it from the post office at noon yester- 
day if I’ve read it once, but it don’t seem as if 
it could be true. I wanted ter ask you about it 
but couldn’t stir out the house fer the storm, 
and when I see yer a-goin’ by, I just flew ter the 
porch and screeched ’sloud ’s I could. Read it.” 

There was pathetic eagerness in Mehitable’s 
eyes as she listened: 

“Beech Lawn, 95 Loring Place, Brookline, Mass. 

Evening of December 20, 19 — . 

“ Dear Miss Starbright : — As the blessed Christmastide, with 
all its beautiful suggestions of peace on earth, and good will 
toward our fellow-beings, draws near, our hearts grow tenderer 
and our thoughts reach out to those into whose lives fewer 
blessings, and less happiness, has come than we have found in 
our own.'^ 

“ As though she hadn’t had enough to break 
her heart,” broke in Mehitable. 

“ The very spirit of the season seems to encompass us, and 
inspire us with a desire to come in closer touch with those we 
love, and those who have in some manner been identified with 
all that makes our hves sweeter and fuller. 

“ I will say no more, but inclose a letter which I have written 
at Penelope’s dictation. It may leave much to be desired as 
a specimen of composition, but it is ‘the heart of a child’ 
which speaks. 


196 


WHAT A LETTER DID 


“We hope that you will be able to come to us. 

“ With warm greetings, 

“ Always sincerely yours, 

“Janet Ridgate Carey.’^ 

Silas folded this letter and opened the other 
he held. Mehitahle nodded eagerly as she said : 

Thafs the one. The other’s all right, too, bnt 
that's the best sermon I ever had preached to 
me.” Silas resumed ; 

“ Dear Aunt Mehitahle: — It^s all snowy here in Brookline. 
Bunny can’t go out, but King can; he loves to jump around in 
the snow and lie down in it. I think he must be dreadful cold, 
but Mother says he comes from the big mountains where the 
snow is so deep, and it’s colder than it is here. But you 
never saw King, did you? He is my big, big dog. 

“ Is it snowy and cold in Long Point now just like it was when 
Christmas day came last year? I told Mother about last 
Christmas, and the storm and the gims going ‘ boom, boom, 
boom,’ all the time. She was sorry about the poor sailors. I 
told her about the hens too. We were sitting in the big living 
room before the fire when I told her. She held me on her lap 
and petted me. It was pretty and warm there. I told her I 
thought you would like to be in a room like that, all red and 
pretty. Mother told me a beautiful story about Christmas 
day and the little Christ Child coming to live in our world, 
and that we keep Christmas because it is His birthday and He 

197 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 

wanted everybody to love everybody and be good to them. 
Did you ever hear that story, Aunt Mehitable? I told Mother 
you didn't know it.* But she said perhaps you had forgotten 
all about it, and that was why you didn't teU me. Is it? 
Mother says the little Christ Child never got cross and ugly to 
people, and that made me think of the time I did, and I felt 
sorry. Mother said we ought to do everything to make people 
happy on Christmas day. Then I thought about you last 
Christmas day. You weren't happy that day, were you Aunt 
Mehitable ? You didn't hke to hear the guns. There won't be 
anybody at your house this Christmas day, will there? You 
will be lonesome, won't you. Aunt Mehitable? I told Mother 
you would be, and I asked her to let me 'vite you to come here. 
To come and stay ever so long, and she said: ‘ Shall we 'vite 
her for a week, darling? ' Then I danced right up and down, 
I was so happy. And you are coming, Aunt Mehitable! 
You're coming to spend the little Christ Child's birthday with 
us! And you must hang up your stocldng by the big fire- 
place in the living room, for Santa Claus to fill in the night 
time, when we're all fast asleep. You don’t know about him 
either, do you, Aunt Mehitable? But I'll tell you when you 
come. And we'll all love you hard as ever we can, because 
the Christ Child wants us to, and we do anyway. Mother says 
she will tell you how to come if you don't know the way. I 
can't hardly wait. 

‘‘ Your loving, 

Jemima-Penelope. 

'cause you don't know Penelope very well yet,” 

198 


WHAT A LETTER DID 


Si^s eyes were misty when he finished reading 
the letter, and as he handed it hack to Mehitahle 
he cleared his throat to ask : 

‘^Will yer goT’ 

“ Go ? Go ? ” cried Mehitahle. “ I’d go if I 
had to stump it from here to Boston on a wooden 
leg ! Go ! I reckon I’ll go. Couldn’t nothin’ in 
this world keep me from a-goin’. I’m goin’ to- 
morrow mornin’ if I have ter wade through snow 
ter my neck ter get ter the station. That’ll get 
me there ’long ’bout four o’clock the day before 
Christmas, and it’ll he the first Christmas eve 
that’s had a spark o’ joy in it fer me in more’n 
a dozen round years. Go? Why, Si, what he 
you a-talkin’ about ter ask? I can’t hardly wait 
fer mornin’ ter come, I’m that flustrated and 
upset,” and Mehitahle promptly illustrated her 
state of mind by picking up Silas’s cap from 
the chair where he had tossed it, and scouring 
it with a dish towel under the impression that she 
was drying one of her teacups. 

‘‘Here! wait; hold on a minit,” cried Si. 
“ Yer teacup’s yonder on the table. You’ll rub 
all the nap otf my cap,” and he handed her the 
cup and rescued his cap. 

14 199 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET^S NEW HOME 


“ My soul ! ” exclaimed Mehitable. “ I told 
you I didn’t know what I was about.” 

“Don’t wonder! Such letters don’t drop 
down every day. I’m most tickled ter death ter 
think you’ll go. Next best thing ter seein’ her 
myself. But I won’t he able ter stand it much 
longer though : I’ll find I’ve got ter go ter Bos- 
ton on business. But don’t you worry ’bout git- 
in’ ter the station. Sally and Kate ain’t dead 
yit, and they’ve hauled through worse drifts’n 
these. I’ll be on hand at nine sharp.” 

“Will you really?” broke in Mehitable. 
“Well, I declare, that’s right good o’ you, Si. 
I’ll he ready. But I’ve a sight ter do here ’fore 
I kin start and them pesky hens’ll he on my 
mind every minit I’m gone,” cried Mehitable, 
flying round the kitchen very much as one of 
her own hens might have done had fate suddenly 
deprived it of its head. 

“Don’t fret about the bins; I’ll come round 
every day and feed ’em till they’ll be too fat 
ter move when you git back. Now hustle round 
and do your fixin’s. La, I never could under- 
stand why a woman must knock the hull roof 
off and nail it on again before she could set out 
200 


WHAT A LETTEK DID 


ter make a visit,” said Silas, as he pulled his 
visor down over his face and buttoned his great 
coat about him. ^‘Well — momin’. I’ll he on 
deck.” 

Could he have seen Mehitable after his depart- 
ure he would have indeed thought the roof about 
to be loosened. A week’s visit in Boston under 
any circumstances would have been an event. 
Under the present ones it was an epoch. Up 
the ladderlike stairway to the attic where little 
Frisky had piped to the happy Jemima rushed 
Mehitable. As she reached beneath the rafters 
to draw out the long unused valise, thoughts of 
the spring day, nearly a year ago, flashed before 
her. The hole beneath the rafter told where the 
little mouse had lived. She paused. There 
weren’t a livin’ thing she didnH love,” she mur- 
mured. “Wish I’d let her alone.” Then tak- 
ing up the big valise she returned to the lower 
floor and began to pack. What went into that 
valise would have startled almost anyone, for 
Mehitable flew from one drawer to another catch- 
ing up an object, only to lay it aside again and 
take up another. One skirt was folded and laid 
carefully into the valise only to be whisked out 
201 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


an instant later and replaced by a different one. 
The trips made to and fro between the little 
bedroom and kitchen would have covered several 
miles had Mehitable been walking in a straight 
line, for nothing seemed just as it should be. 

“Now I wonder if I couldnT tuck in a few 
eggs for Mis. Carey,” she murmured. “They 
might taste good to her; Boston eggs has a 
mighty sight more air in ’em ’n yolk, and these 
were warm from the nest last night ! ” and the 
eggs were carefully rolled in a towel and placed 
in the valise. 

“An’ now let me see — ^what next? La — ^I 
ain’t put in a sign of a comb and brush, have 
I? Sakes alive, how I should a-felt if I’d for- 
got that. I s’pose I might as well take this one,” 
and Mehitable picked up the white celluloid 
comb and brush which lay upon the old mahog- 
any chest of drawers. It was the same one the 
little Jemima had handed to her with the asser- 
tion that “little Pen’s turls must shine, shine, 
shine,” more than three years ago, and which the 
“ old sweetheart, Lem Cummings,” had given to 
“ Hitty ” Starbright many years before. 

Mehitable’s thoughts were far, far back in the 
202 


WHAT A LETTER DID 


past as she placed the comb and brush in the 
valise, and for a time her actions were purely 
mechanical as she went on with her packing. 
That a scrubbing brush, in lieu of her tooth 
brush, followed the comb and brush into the 
valise she was entirely unaware. 

But at length it was ended and all in readi- 
ness for Si’s appearance next morning. Then 
Mehitable went to bed to sleep and dream of 
wonderful journeys and unheard-of scenes. 


203 


CHAPTER XVIII 


mehitable’s journey 

“ Wh-e-e-e-0-0 ! Wh-e-e-e-o-o I ” sounded Si’s 
long, shrill whistle at Mehitahle’s gate at nine 
o’clock next morning. The storm had ceased 
hut the wind still blew a bitter gale, having 
drawn in to the northwest during the night to 
sweep across the steely expanse of Cape Cod 
Bay and cover that body of water with vicious- 
looking “whitecaps,” which hinted of wilder 
seas upon the ocean beyond. 

The snow lay in mountainous drifts upon 
roads and fields, completely obliterating all 
boundary lines, and the fences had vanished 
entirely. It was a bitterly cold morning and 
Mehitable’s kitchen windows had become opaque 
from their coating of frost. 

In response to Si’s summons Mehitable 
popped her head out of her door very much 
204 


MEHITABLE’S JOURNEY 


as a prairie dog might pop out of its snow- 
covered dwelling, and called: 

“ Yes, Si, 1^11 be there in a minute. Can you 
come ’long in and git this valise ? I’ll bring the 
little satchel and bundle myself. Land er the 
livin’, how’n this world are you ever to git in or 
am I ter git out, I’d like ter know? I ain’t seen 
such a fall o’ snow on this cape in twenty years. 
How’d you s’pose we’ll ever git up ter the 
station? ” 

As Mehitable talked Silas clambered out of 
his sleigh and landed waist deep in a drift. 

“ Gosh, Mehitable ! You can’t never’n this 
world wallow through this,” he cried, as he 
floundered toward her. Got a shovel? I’ll dig 
yer out some and start yer dry anyhow.” 

But there ain’t time, I’m afraid,” answered 
Mehitable, fidgeting up and down in her excite- 
ment. 

“ Yes, there is ; plenty. The train don’t start 
’till ten and I’ll git yer there all right. Where’s 
yer shovel ? ” 

“ Out yonder by the hencoop,” cried Mehitable, 
and then vanished indoors. 

Silas floundered out to the hencoop, got the 

205 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


shovel and began digging with such powerful 
plunges that he promptly had a small blizzard 
whirling about him. The path from house to 
deigh was made in an incredibly short space of 
time and all was ready for Mehitable to set 
forth. 

“Now come on,” said Silas, picking up the 
big valise from the back porch. “ La sakes, Me- 
hitable, what have ye got inside it — ^bricks 1 ” 
he asked. “ It weighs ’nigh ’bout a ton. How’d 
yer expect ter lug such a weight and them things 
besides 1 ” 

“ That weight won’t kill me, I reckon, and the 
little satchel and the bundle ain’t nothin’ ’tall. 
Now I’m ready,” and locking the door Mehit- 
able followed Silas down the path. She had 
gone about half the distance toward the sleigh 
when she stopped and exclaimed: 

“ There I I do believe I’ve forgot to shut off 
them draughts in the stove and like as not the 
whole house will ketch a-fire,” and back she 
hurried to unlock the door and whisk into the 
kitchen. But the draughts were all right after 
all. 

“ Now you’re gettin’ altogether too flustered,” 
206 


MEHITABLE’S JOURNEY 


said Silas as he took hold of her arm to help 
her into the sleigh, while Sally and Kate looked 
mildly around to see what was going on. Silas 
got Mehitahle comfortably settled and was about 
to take his place beside her when another inter- 
ruption came. 

Wait a minute! Wait a minute! I can’t 
find my handkerchief,” she cried, beginning a 
frantic search in satchel and pocket for the ar- 
ticle which the keen wind made a vital necessity. 

“ Good Lord ! ” was all Silas said as he 
watched the search proceed. 

“ ’Tain’t here. I’ve left it on the table I know, 
and I’ve got ter go straight back for it. I 
couldn’t never ’n the world go ’thout it such a 
day as this,” cried Mehitahle, pushing the robes 
from her and preparing to get out of the sleigh. 

“Now wait, wait,” cried Silas. “Don’t 
get out. I’ll go git it. Give me the key.” 

“ And me stay here with these horses and have 
’em run away with me? Not if I know it!” 
cried Mehitahle with a good deal of the old 
aggressive spirit. 

“ Run away with you ! ” repeated Silas deris- 
ively. “Do you think they could run far in 
207 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


these drifts? The snow’s up to their stomachs 
where they’re standin’. Give me the key.” 

Mehitahle handed him the key without fur- 
ther opposition and Silas plodded back to the 
house. But the handkerchief was not on the 
table. Silas looked upon every article of furni- 
ture but it was not to be seen. 

“Great Scott! I’d rather move a house ’n 
a woman any day,” he ejaculated. “ It’s a sight 
less trouble. Say, Mehitable, I can’t find a sign 
of it.” 

“ Oh, sakes alive! Then I’ve got ter come! 
Never did know a man that could find a single 
thing, anyway,” she added under her breath as 
she rose up to descend from the sleigh. The 
handkerchief lay upon the seat beneath her. 

‘ Oh, here it is ! I’ve got it. Si,” she called. 

“ Dam ! ” muttered Silas, as he locked the 
door and stalked back to the sleigh. The robes 
were again tucked about Mehitable and Silas took 
up the reins. Sally and Kate plunged forward 
into the drifts and the journey began. To pro- 
ceed faster than a walk was out of the question. 
Slowly the horses wound along the road as well 
as they might, which was far better than human 
208 


MEHITABLE^S JOURNEY 

beings could have done. The outskirts of the 
town were reached, the hotel passed and they had 
come abreast of Mrs. Egelston’s cottage when 
Mehitable, who had been apprehensively, though 
silently, watching the careerings of the sleigh, 
suddenly made a dive for the small satchel which 
stood at her feet. 

“Whafs up now?” demanded Silas. 

“ It don’t seem’s if I could a been such a fool,” 
was Mehitable’s seemingly irrelevant reply. “ I 
shall want ter clear give up if I have,^^ 

‘‘What do ye mean% What are ye gittin’ at 
anyhow?” persisted Si, reining up, for Mehit- 
able had opened her satchel and was frantically 
clawing amidst its contents. 

“ Why, my pocketbook. Si I It ain’t here, and 
I ain’t got a cent o’ money; not a single cent,” 
cried Mehitable in deep perturbation. 

“ Great Jehosaphat! And here we’ve come a 
mile! Now what in tarnation’s ter be done? 
Vve got jist two dollars in my pocket and that’d 
be about as much use to you as two flapjacks; 
’twouldn’t take yer ter Buzzard’s Bay let ’lone 
Boston. Now this is a pretty kettle o’ fish, ain’t 
it? Are yer sure it ain’t in yer satchel? ” 

209 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEAV HOME 


“Not a sign of it!” cried Mehitable distract- 
edly, as she again turned over the contents of the 
satchel. 

“ Could you a put it in the valise? ” 

“ No ; ’cause I packed that last night and didn’t 
open it again.” 

“ How about the bundle ? ” asked Silas as a 
last hope. 

“’Tain’t in that, ’cause, ’cause — well, that 
ain’t got nothin’ in it but an apple pie and a 
mince pie, and some o’ them little cookies Jem — 
Penelope used ter set such store by. I had ’em 
all made and it did seem a shame ter leave 
’em behind ter spile, and I thought like ’nough 
Mis. Carey would enjoy home-made mincemeat. 
That baker stuff they sell up there in Boston’s 
no great shakes ’cordin’ ter my views o’ mince 
meat. Oh, dear, dear, dear! How could I a 
been such a fool ! How could I ! ” wailed poor 
Mehitable. 

“ Well, ’tain’t any use ter cry over spilt milk, 
and as fer goin’ ’thout money yer might as well 
try ter walk ’thout legs. So back we’ve got ter 
go. Now don’t git scared stiff when I try ter 
turn ’round. We’re likely to do some lively 
210 


MEHITABLE’S JOURNEY 


keelin’ over, but I reckon we’ll keep right side 
up. Steady there, Sally ! Whoa, Kate I ” 
Turning the sleigh in such a depth of snow 
required skillful driving, but Silas managed to 
go about,” as he expressed it, without mishap, 
and to start back toward Mehitable’s home. 

Where have you left itl ” he asked, as they 
drew near the house. 

“Oh, I s’pose I forgot ter take it out o’ 
the wash biler,” cried Mehitable in a tone of 
disgust. 

“ The wash biler ! ” echoed Silas. “ What in 
kingdom-come was yer pocketbook doin’ in the 
wash biler 1 ’ 

“Well, I had consider’ble money in it fer 
this trip — ^most forty dollars, I guess — ’cause I 
thought I might want ter do a little buying up 
in Boston and I didn’t like ter leave it lyin’ 
round, sort of loose. We ain’t never had any 
robberies in Long Point I know, but that’s no 
reason we shouldn’t have some time, and I 
thought I’d put the pocketbook in a place there 
wouldn’t anybody think o’ lookin’ for it. So 
I took it out o’ my satchel last night and put it 
in the wash biler, down cellar.” 

211 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


“ Uh — h ! ” groaned Silas, then asked resign- 
edly: 

“ Did yer think there was a chance o’ bur- 
glars takin’ a little pleasure trip in last night’s 
blizzard with the wind a-hlowin’ sixty miles an 
hour? ” 

“ There’s never no tollin’ when such critters’ll 
take trips,” retorted Mehitahle as she prepared 
to get out of the sleigh. Silas did not offer 
to go in this time. During her absence he got 
his horses turned round and was once more 
headed toward the railway station when she 
reappeared. When he finally got her settled 
again, he took up his reins and slapping them 
with a suggestive thwack upon the horses’ flanks 
cried : 

‘‘Now you two have ter hustle, drifts or no 
drifts. Get along lively, or we’ll miss that 
train.” 

No further mishaps occurred, however, and in 
due time the station was reached and Mehitahle 
settled in the car. 

Only one train left Long Point during the win- 
ter season and had Mehitahle missed it, her 
chance of spending Christmas eve with the 
212 


MEHITABLE’S JOURNEY 


Careys, and hanging up her stocking by the big 
fireplace, wonld have been quite gone. 

There were only two cars attached to the en- 
gine and these looked rather cheerless, for only 
one other passenger was in the one Mehitable 
rode in, although two or three men were in the 
smoker ahead. 

‘‘Now fer the Lord’s sake don’t lose yer 
poekethook nor yourself,'*^ admonished Silas, as 
he hade her good-hy after settling her valise 
upon the floor, and the satchel and precious pies 
upon the seat beside her. “Let me hear how 
yer git along, ’though mehhe I’ll show up when 
you least expect ter see me. Good-hy. Kiss 
little Cricket for me and tell her Si sends 
more love ’n your big valise would hold. 
Good-by,” and waving his hand he hurried 
from the car as the conductor called out “ All 
aboard ! ” 

It was a long, tedious journey which Mehit- 
ahle had to take that day, for at many points 
the track was covered with several feet of snow, 
and Cape Cod traffic is not sufficiently stirring 
during the winter season to warrant the lively 
hurrying to and fro of rotary plows to clear 
213 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET^S NEW HOME 


its railroad. The train puffed and panted 
along, like a fat old dog trying to force its way 
through a drift, now and again coming to a com- 
plete standstill to wait until it could be shoveled 
out of a snowbank. 

It was long past two o’clock before half the 
distance between Long Point and Boston was 
covered although the train should have reached 
the city at three, and by that time Mehitable 
began to realize that she was hungry, for she had 
not tasted a. mouthful since seven o’clock. Then 
it dawned upon her that she had forgotten so 
trifling a matter as putting up a luncheon to 
eat upon her journey. 

Humph,” she said to herself, “ I dare say I’d 
forgot ter bring my own head along if I’d a had 
any way of leavin’ it behind. Well, I’m likely 
ter be hungrier before I git ter Brookline, I 
reckon.” 

Then she glanced down at the bundle beside 
her. There were two absolutely perfect pies, 
and two or three dozen crisp cookies. 

“ No ! ” she exclaimed with suppressed empha- 
sis, I ^on’t touch a mite of ’em, not if I half 
starve. Serves me right fer bein’ such an ever- 
214 


MEHITABLE’S JOURNEY 


lastin’ fool,” and the pies and cookies journeyed 
on to their destination unmolested. 

Darkness had fallen and the electric lights 
were flashing in the great terminal when Mehit- 
ahle’s train at length rolled into it. Gathering 
up her bundle and satchel she was about to take 
up the heavy valise when a happy little voice 
cried out: 

“ Here we are, Aunt Mehitable ! Here we are, 
daddy and Pen ! ” and Penelope came running 
through the now emptied car with Mr. Carey 
following close behind. 

Down banged the big valise and the satchel, 
and what saved the pies from total destruction 
will never be disclosed as Mehitable put out both 
arms and the next second was clasping Pen to 
her breast, while Pen hugged her with all her 
small might and cried : 

Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come. Aunt Mehit- 
able ! I’m so glad you’ve come.” 

‘‘How are you. Miss Starbright? I’m glad 
to see you. Let me take your valise and things, 
and we’ll get home as fast as we can go if this 
little bear will quit hugging you.” 

“ She can’t never hug me enough,” cried Me- 
15 215 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


hitable, quite beside berself with joy. “ There, 
take tbe valise and satchel, but you’d better let 
me have tbe bundle; it’s — it’s — well, it’s smash- 
able.” 

“ You’ve bad a tiresome journey, I’m afraid. 
Tbe roads are badly blocked, I understand; this 
train is over three hours late. I hope you bad a 
generous luncheon with you,” said Mr. Carey as 
he led tbe way from tbe car. 

“ Didn’t have a mite ! ” was Mebitable’s ex- 
plosive reply. “ Got so flustered at startin’ that 
I never thought a single thing about it.” 

What ! ” cried Mr. Carey in dismay. “ This 
long journey and not a mouthful to eatf Come 
right into tbe restaurant and get some tea and 
toast before we start for Brookline. It will be 
a full hour before you can get dinner.” 

Well, I don’t mind if I do,” answered Me- 
bitable, whose bead was already throbbing from 
excitement and fasting. 

Twenty minutes later she was in Mr. Carey’s 
auto, with Penelope snuggling between them 
beneath tbe robes and on her way to Brookline. 


216 


CHAPTER XIX 


^^rOB LOVE IS MASTEB OF ALL ARTS ” 

Owing to the snow, the automobile could not 
make very rapid progress while in the heart of 
Boston with its Christmas eve throng of ve- 
hicles and merrymakers, and consequently, Me- 
hitable’s misgivings, secretly harbored as she 
took her seat in that vehicle, were allayed. After 
all, these contrivances were less alarming than 
she had believed them to be, for surely this was 
a steady-going machine only now and again giv- 
ing her a jolt or a slight shake-up. Even Si’s 
sleigh had done that ; and if she had come safely 
through such drifts as the sleigh had plowed 
through that morning, she felt she need feel 
little anxiety on the score of the auto. So she 
gave herself up to the joy of having Penelope 
beside her, and holding fast the little hand which 
stole into hers beneath the robes. She did not 
217 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


talk much, but listened eagerly to the ceaseless 
prattle of the child. Mehitahle had missed and 
longed for that little voice more than she would 
have confessed to any living being. 

‘‘We are going to have a Christmas tree, 
Aunt Mehitahle ! A really truly Christmas tree, 
and you are to help us dress it with all the most 
bea-u-tiful things you ever saw. I went with 
mother to buy the tree — such a big one! Big 
as that one over by that store — see? The big, 
big one. And you ought to see the things moth- 
er bought to put on it. Such a lot of bright, 
shiny ones, like those Nicolo used to hang on 
his stand only ever, ever so much bigger and 
beautifuller. And there are to be presents for 
everybody — even King and Bunny. There is 
something for you, too. Aunt Mehitahle, only I 
can’t tell you what it is, ’cause that’s a Christ- 
mas secret — mother said so. Isn’t it lovely to 
have Christmas secrets? We forgot to have 
them at Long Point, didn’t we. Aunt Mehitahle? 
Why did we? ” and the little rose-leaf face in 
its squirrel hood was turned up to Mehitahle in 
the electric light. 

Mehitahle was about to reply to these embar- 
218 


‘‘LOVE IS MASTER OF ALL ARTS” 


passing questions bnt the auto spared her feel- 
ings ; that is, it spared her moral sensibilities by 
creating a diversion in her questioner’s thoughts. 
They had now reached the outskirts of the city 
and come upon the broad, unobstructed boule- 
vards where the chauffeur could let his machine 
out a notch or so, and imperceptibly the speed 
had gradually increased. They had just crossed 
a bridge and were starting along the Back Bay 
Fens when Mehitable became aware of the 
higher rate of speed, a decided jolt as they left 
the bridge being the cause of her awakening to 
what was taking place around her. 

“ My land-er-massy ! ” she cried as she was 
bounced suddenly up and down again with force 
sufficient to jerk her hat nearly off her head, for 
Mehitable had not set forth prepared for an 
evening spin in a crack touring car. “ Do these 
things always go so like all possessed! ” 

“Pretty lively, as a rule. Miss Starbright,” 
answered Mr. Carey, striving not to laugh at 
her consternation. But Penelope was not re- 
stricted by conventionalities and her merry laugh 
pealed through the air. 

“You must wear a hood. Aunt Mehitable! 

219 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


You must wear a hood like mother’s and mine 
when you ride in daddy’s auto,” she cried. 

“ Wear a hood ! And if I wore a hood who’s 
to guarantee that the head it’s on won’t be jerked 
clear off my shoulders, I’d like ter know? ” was 
Mehitahle’s characteristic retort. 

“ Better tie this veil right over your hat. 
Mrs. Carey keeps one in this little hag for emer- 
gencies and you’ll find it useful,” said Mr. Carey, 
as he took an ample-sized veil from a little silk 
bag which Mrs. Carey kept in the auto. 

Mehitable adjusted it and after that her 
flighty headgear stayed in its place. 

The run was not a very long one and in a 
short time they turned in at the Careys’ drive- 
way where King welcomed them with deep- 
mouthed harks, and raced ahead of the auto to 
announce its coming to Mrs. Carey. As the auto 
ran under the porte-cochere^ Mrs. Carey opened 
the front door and stepped out to meet them. 
It would have been a trying moment for Mehit- 
ahle had not Pen rushed forward to clasp her 
arms about her mother and cry : 

«We got Aunt Mehitable, mother! We got 
her ! We got her I ” 


220 


LOVE IS MASTER OF ALL ARTS” 


Mrs. Carey advanced to take Miss Starbright’s 
band and say in her softly modulated voice: 

^‘Welcome to Beecb Lawn, Miss Starbrigbt. 
We are very glad to see you. Come in,” and 
leading by the band tbe woman wbo for three 
years bad made tbis borne so wretchedly un- 
bappy, Mrs. Carey demonstrated tbe spirit of 
tbe season — “ Peace on earth.” 

Mebitable’s band trembled as it rested in Mrs. 
Carey’s. 

“ Come upstairs, Aunt Mebitable,” broke in 
Pen, nearly beside herself with delight. 
know where you are going to sleep to-night; 
right in tbe red guest room next to mine. 
Mother said so. She said she guessed you’d 
like to be close to me. Would you? Come,” 
and Penelope caught bold of Mebitable’s band 
to tug her across tbe broad hall toward tbe stairs. 

Will you follow your little guide. Miss Star- 
brigbt? ” asked Mrs. Carey. 

“ Anywhere in tbe world she’ll lead me,” was 
Mebitable’s reply with more feeling than such 
a simple question seemed to demand. 

Penelope danced toward tbe stairs, Mebitable 
going with her and Mrs. Carey following close 
221 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


behind, while a maid brought up the rear with 
the bags. 

This is your room! Ain’t it pretty? Do 
you like it? ” asked Pen, untying her little fur 
hood as she danced about and then wriggling 
out of the squirrel-skin coat which enveloped 
her from neck to heel. 

Mehitable looked about the artistically deco- 
rated and furnished room; noticed the dainty 
appointments of dressing table, toilet table, and 
bed; glanced at the walls and then stood still, 
seemingly lost in thought. 

“ Do take off your things,” said Mrs. Carey, 
as she helped Pen to remove her coat. 

Mehitable began to remove her outer gar- 
ments, placed her hat upon a chair, but held her 
coat in her hands and looked somewhat be- 
wildered. Mrs. Carey looked up. 

Just lay your things on the bed. Miss Star- 
bright, and Annie will put them away for you,” 
said Mrs. Carey. 

I don’t sort o’ like ter ; I’m afraid o’ mussin’ 
up all that lacey stuff,” answered Mehitable. 

“It is not so easily mussed up. Miss Star- 
bright,” replied Mrs. Carey, smiling reassur- 
222 


LOVE IS MASTER OF ALL ARTS” 


ingly. “Now, little maid, suppose we leave 
Aunt Mehitable to get free of her cinders. Will 
you join us in the living room when you are 
ready. Miss Starbright! Dinner will be served 
in a few moments,” and Mrs. Carey left the 
room with Pen beside her, covering her hand 
with kisses as she pranced along. 

Ordinarily, little Pen was tucked safely away 
in her bed when the clock struck eight, but this 
evening was a red-letter one in her life ; the first 
Christmas eve she had ever celebrated, though 
seven years of age. She was to sit up until ten 
o’clock in order to help dress the big Christmas 
tree already standing in the library, its spread- 
ing, balsamic branches so filling the air with 
odors that one was inclined to play at peep in 
the hope of discovering Santa Claus himself 
hidden behind them. 

Then dinn er was served. That dinner, by the 
way, was a source of marvel to Mehitable and 
aroused within her strong misgivings regarding 
her pies, still carefully wrapped in the snowy 
towel and brown paper in her bedroom; there 
seemed so little apparent need to supplement the 
bounty before her. When they adjourned to the 
223 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


library, Penelope ran on ahead crying in her 
happy little voice : 

‘‘ Come, Aunt Mehitable ! Come quick ! ’cause 
I can’t wait another minute.” 

My sakes alive ! ” cried Mehitable, I never 
did see such a tree in all my bom days ! ” 

Isn’t it a big one? Isn’t it? ” and Pen per- 
formed a wild dance around it. 

Then the dressing began, Mehitable blossom- 
ing out in a wonderful degree as the work pro- 
ceeded, for something of the Christmas spirit 
seemed to be in the very air she was inhaling 
and she could not escape it if she would. Mr. 
and Mrs. Carey watched her covertly, now and 
again exchanging meaning glances, for they be- 
gan to understand Mehitable Starbright better 
from that hour and to realize how such a strange, 
starved life as she had led would inevitably 
develop such a character as hers. Purposely 
Mr. and Mrs. Carey let the major portion of the 
decorating fall to the share of Pen and Mehit- 
able, the former darting from the boxes of shin- 
ing trifles to the tree with hands overflowing 
with sparkling balls, or brilliant gewgaws, while 
Mehitable hung them to the branches as fast as 
224 


‘‘LOVE IS MASTER OF ALL ARTS” 


her fingers could place them, growing nearly as 
excited and wildly enthusiastic over the effect as 
Pen herself. 

There are some natures which will forever re- 
main children at heart, and, strange as this may 
seem, Mehitable really was one of these, though 
owing to her lonely, disappointed life, she had 
given very little evidence of that fact; the 
harsher, repellant side being nearly always to 
the fore. 

Never in. all the thirty-three years of her life 
had she known the meaning of Christmas joys. 
Never, even during her childhood, had she en- 
tered into the Christmas revelings which seem 
so much a matter of course to every child, and 
as inseparable from their lives as light and sun- 
shine. Never, incredible as the fact may seem, 
had she been brought into such an atmosphere of 
love, kindness, and good-fellowship as this now 
brought around her, and poor Mehitable, “ the 
crank,” as she had been called for years, became 
almost as gay and light-hearted as a little child. 

More than once as she watched the tall, angu- 
lar woman, did the tears well up to Mrs. Carey’s 
eyes, and the pathos of such a life become re- 
225 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


vealed to her. She would never forget the scene 
in the little bedroom at Long Point where she 
had learned and understood more than the world 
could ever know. 

“Hang this one up high, Aunt Mehitahle! 
Way, way up there , cried Pen, as she handed 
Mehitahle a gorgeous silver star, and pointed 
to the very top of the tree. 

“ My soul and body ! How’d you s’pose I^m 
a-goin’ ter reach ter the top o’ the tree. It’s 
as tall again as an eel-spear pole. Got a step- 
ladder, Mr. Carey? Won’t nothin’ else in the 
round world ever hike me up there,” was Me- 
hitahle’s wholly reckless reply. 

“Right on deck,” cried Mr. Carey, bringing 
in from the hall the ladder already at hand for 
such an emergency. “But you’d better let me 
do the lofty, sky-high work. We don’t want any 
broken bones for Christmas,” he added as he 
scrambled up to the top of the ladder. 

“ Guess like enough you’re right,” was Me- 
hitable’s more prudent afterthought, as she 
handed him the great, shining star and watched 
him with absorbing interest as he tied it to the 
very topmost spur of the tree, where it shone 
226 


“LOVE IS MASTER OF ALL ARTS’^ 

aud scintillated in the gaslight. So interested 
had all present become in the placing of the star 
that for the time being Penelope was quite for- 
gotten. Suddenly they were recalled to a realiz- 
ing sense of her presence. She was standing 
directly beneath the chandelier, the light from 
it falling full upon her golden hair, as she looked 
at the star with an expression upon her pure 
little face that caused her mother to draw a 
quick breath. Pen’s hands were clasped loosely 
in front of her, her head slightly raised and her 
lips parted as from them came the tender words 
of the beautiful Christmas hymn which Mrs. 
Carey had taught her that morning. 

** Saw you never in the twilight, 

When the sun has left the skies, 

Up in heaven the clear stars shining 
Through the gloom, like silver eyes ? 

So of old the wise men, watching. 

Saw a little stranger star. 

And they knew the King was given, 

And they followed it from far. 

Know ye not the lowly baby 
Was the bright and shining Star ? 

He who came to light this planet. 

Our dear earth, both near and far ? 

227 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


And we, too, may seek His cradle; 

There our hearts^ best treasures bring ; 

Love, and faith, and true devotion. 

For the Christ Child's honoring." 

Softly, tenderly the childish voice filled the 
room with its sweet melody, the little singer 
wholly unconscious of the beauty of it, for Pen, 
^‘did hut sing because she must” in order to 
give expression to the thoughts which filled her 
heart with joy. 

Mehitahle stood transfixed, for the child’s 
voice seemed to her as a message from another 
world, so weird and tender were its notes. It 
must be remembered that in the days past 
Mehitahle had not encouraged the little ‘‘Je- 
mima’s” singing, and consequently had never 
heard that wonderful little voice at its best. 
But Pen was entirely unaware of the impression 
she was making and continued her little hymn 
of praise to its end. Mehitahle dropped upon 
a chair and covered her face with her hands. 

When Pen came to the end of her hymn she 
started slightly as one rousing from a dream; 
then catching sight of Mehitahle, she ran to her, 
saying, “ Poor Aunt Mehitahle, are you so tired 
228 


LOVE IS MASTER OF ALL ARTS’^ 


and sleepy? and clambered into ber lap to put 
her arms about her. 

Mehitable returned the caress warmly as she 
said: “Yes, I guess Vm clear tuckered out. I 
don’t go a- journeying every day.” 

“ Forgive my thoughtlessness,” cried Mrs. 
Carey. “ You must go right to your room, and 
this little lassie must be tucked away or Santa 
will surely catch her; it is already past ten 
o’clock.” 

“ The stockings, mother ! The stockings ! ” 
cried Pen. 

“ Surely the stockings ! ” echoed Mrs. Carey. 
“ Here they are, all ready to hang by the fire- 
place.” 

Pen took the four long, limp stockings and 
slipped the loops, carefully sewed upon them 
for the purpose, over the four little hooks which 
Mr. Carey had screwed beneath the broad man- 
tel shelf. 

“ There ! There ! ” she cried. “ They are all 
ready for Santa,” and a moment later she was 
prancing away upstairs, followed by Mrs. Carey 
and Mehitable. 


229 


CHAPTER XX 


“eejoice, oub savioub he was bobn 

ON CHRISTMAS DAY IN THE MORNING’^ 

When Mehitable Starbright opened ber eyes 
tbe following morning it took ber some time to 
realize where sbe was. It was still dark beyond 
ber windows as tbe little nigbt light burning 
upon tbe table near by revealed to her. For sev- 
eral moments sbe lay quite still, ber eyes trav- 
eling from one unfamiliar object to another, as 
her sleep-laden faculties strove to reassert them- 
selves. Presently, as ber fingers grouped aim- 
lessly about tbe bed coverings, they touched the 
soft silkiness of tbe down coverlid and tbe next 
instant Mehitable was broad awake. 

“Now I^d admire ter know if I did do that 
after all ? ” sbe exclaimed beneath ber breath with 
considerable emphasis. “ I^m certain sure I laid 
that coverlid on tbe chair last nigbt fer fear I’d 
wrinkle it all up. How in this world come I to 
230 


^‘ON CHRISTMAS DAY’^ 


have it over me this momin’ ? ” and Mehitahle 
sat bolt upright to assure herself that she was 
not dreaming but wide awake. 

Yes, there was the white silken puff cover, 
with its gorgeous crimson poppies carefully 
spread over her, although she was absolutely 
certain that she had been at great pains to re- 
move it from the bed when she was preparing to 
retire upon the previous night. Upon entering the 
room she had found the bed clothing carefully 
turned down by the maid and all in readiness 
for the guest to retire, but Mehitable had con- 
sidered that cover far too handsome to use. 

Some day, later in her life, she would under- 
stand that a mother’s ear lies close to her heart, 
and why Mrs. Carey was in the habit of steal- 
ing into Pen’s bedroom more than once during 
a night. And so it had happened that while 
lingering above the little brass bedstead in the 
adjoining room, giving a gentle touch to the bed 
coverings, Mrs. Carey had heard Mehitable talk- 
ing in her sleep, and feeling somewhat concerned 
had slipped noiselessly into her room to find it 
freezingly cold from a wide-open window, and 
the sacred puff cover folded carefully across the 
16 231 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


back of a chair. Mrs. Carey could not help 
smiling as the reason for this care flashed across 
her. When she slipped out of the room again 
the puff cover was fulfilling its destiny. 

“Well, this beats my time,” was Mehitable’s 
next comment. “I’ve seen a sight o’ queer 
things in this house sense I come into it last 
night, but I didn’t know they had quilts that 
sensed when folks was half froze, and crawled 
up outer the beds o’ their own free will, and ’less 
this one did, goodness only knows how it come 
here.” 

But before Mehitable’s bewilderment could go 
further she heard outside her door a voice sing- 
ing joyously, 

“ Rejoice, our Saviour He was bom 
On Christmas day in the morning, 

followed by “ Merry Christmas, Aunt Mehit- 
able ! Merry Christmas ! I’ve brought you 
your stocking, and I’ve got mine, too! I knew 
I’d wake up first! Merry Christmas! Merry 
Christmas ! ” 

Mehitable tossed the bedcovers aside, utterly 
disregarding the cherished cover and scrambled 
out of bed, dragging on her dressing gown as 
232 


‘‘ON CHRISTMAS DAY 


she hurried across the room to hang the window 
shut, all the while calling excitedly : “ Merry 
Christmas ! Merry Christmas ! Yes, I’ll be 
ready in half a minit. Let me shut this winder 
or you’ll freeze stiff’s a poker. There! Now 
come ’long in’s fast as you’re a mind ter.” 

It was a comical enough figure which flung the 
door wide open and hade Penelope enter, for Me- 
hitahle had enveloped herself in a monstrous 
gray dressing gown, more ample than graceful 
in design, and above it peeped her head, her front 
hair rolled on some sort of patent crimping pins, 
for she was determined to do honor to her host- 
ess and the day. 

But if Mehitable looked grotesque, the little 
figure in the doorway looked the very spirit of 
Christmas. Pen’s feet were encased in little blue 
wool bedroom shoes, and her small self in the 
downiest of wadded blue silk dressing gowns, 
fastened straight up to her chin and bound about 
her waist with a blue silk cord. Her golden 
curls fell all about her shoulders, and in each 
outstretched hand she held a long, humpy stock- 
ing filled to overflowing with all manner of fanci- 
ful things. 


233 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


The instant the door was opened she ran 
into the room, crying: “This is your stocking, 
Aunt Mehitahle ! This is yours ! I gave moth- 
er and daddy theirs and I am going into their 
room to see them take their presents out just 
as soon as we have seen ours. Come quick! 
Quick ! ” and clambering upon Mehitahle’s bed 
Pen caught her own stocking by the toe and be- 
gan to shake forth its contents, screaming with 
delight as each object was shaken out. 

Now if upon Christmas day one year bygone 
anyone had informed Mehitahle Starbright that, 
when another twelve months rolled around, she 
would be sitting in the middle of a big bed with 
“ Jemima Starbright,” shaking from a stocking 
an array of gifts both fancy and funny, exclaim- 
ing with a child’s enthusiasm over each as it 
appeared, almost sobbing with joy one moment 
or laughing the next, she would have looked at 
that person about two minutes, only animosity 
darting from her steely eyes, and would undoubt- 
edly have replied: 

“Well, you must be a tamal fool!” 

Yet here she was this cold, crisp Christmas 
dawn, sitting in the big bed and enjoying herself 
234 


‘‘ON CHRISTMAS DAY 


from the very rampant tips of her curling pins, 
straight down to her bedroom slippers as she had 
never enjoyed herself in all her life, while Pen’s 
laughter pealed again and again through the 
room, and beyond her window the Christmas 
stars winked and twinkled as though saying to 
one another: 

“We knew a thing or two after all, didn’t 
wef” 

“Get dressed quick, Aunt Mehitable! Get 
dressed just as quick as ever you can, ’cause we 
are going to have the tree and the presents 
right after breakfast, and I don’t know how to 
wait,” cried Penelope, gathering up the articles 
she had taken from her stocking and scrambling 
down from the bed. “ I’m going to see mother 
and daddy take the things out of their stockings 
now ; they said they’d wait ’till I came back from 
your room. Good-by for a little teenty while,” 
and away she ran to her mother’s room, there to 
repeat the joys of bringing to light all manner 
of pretty things from two or more stockings, for 
Mr. and Mrs. Carey were reliving the days of 
their own childhood in this little daughter so 
strangely restored to them. 

235 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


A few hours later all were gathered in the 
library while Mr. Carey distributed the pack- 
ages which lay piled beneath the tree. 

‘‘ Penelope, with mother’s love,” he cried 
gayly, holding toward Pen a box nearly as long 
as herself. 

Pen ran to take it, clasped it tightly to her and 
then scuttled back to her mother’s side. 

“Penelope, with daddy’s love,” again called 
Mr. Carey. 

“ Another for me? ” cried Pen, and flew back 
toward the tree to clasp a very humpy bundle. 
Before she could run to her mother’s side again, 
Mr. Carey called merrily : 

“Penelope, with grandma’s love,” and the 
next second, “Penelope, with Miss Elizabeth’s 
love,” then, “Penelope, with Mrs. Egelston’s 
love.” 

By this time Pen was completely bewildered 
and nearly buried from sight, for she had 
plumped her little self down in the middle of the 
floor as upon her the gifts continued to rain, and 
there she sat giving wild screeches of delight as 
package followed package. 

“ Aren’t you going to open them, sweetheart? ” 
236 


“ON CHRISTMAS DAY 


asked Mrs. Carey, dropping down beside the 
delighted child. 

“ Oh, yes ! Pretty soon-quick,” cried Pen. 
“Just as soon as I get to know they’re really 
truly all for me. But aren’t you, and daddy and 
Aunt Mehitable, and Annie and — and — every- 
body else going to have a lot, too! ” 

“Indeed we are. See all those still beneath 
the tree,” answered Mrs. Carey. 

“ Then please let me help give them,” cried 
Pen, springing up and leaving her own parcels 
unopened. “I want everybody to have theirs 
and everybody to all look at theirs all to the 
same time,” she concluded, getting hopelessly 
twisted in her excitement. 

“Very well! This is your very own day, 
dear, and you shall plan it to please yourself,” 
said Mrs. Carey gently. 

“ Come along, then, little Lady Bountiful. 
Here is a bundle for mother,” called Mr. Carey, 
holding a parcel toward Pen. 

She ran to take it. 

Next came one for Miss Starbright. “Aunt 
Mehitable, with Penelope’s love,” read Mr. 
Carey. 


237 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW. HOME 


Penelope bounded toward it, then rushed with 
it to Mehitable and casting it and herself, too, 
into her lap, cried: 

“Ifs for youj Aunt Mehitable! 1 bought it! 
Mother gave me the money to, and I bought it 
all my own self, only mother went with me. I 
knew you didnT have one, and I knew you would 
like one, ^cause mother likes to have them. She’s 
got such lots of pretty ones and you haven’t got 
any. So I got this for you. I choosed it my 
ownty, donty self. See, see! Quick, quick,” 
and Pen almost tore off the wrappings in her 
eagerness. 

^‘My soul and body! A present for me! 
And you givin’ it to me! I never did hear tell 
o’ such doin’s. Why, I didn’t no more expect 
a present ’n nothin’ ’t all. The idea; the very 
idea,’ said Mehitable as she worked excitedly at 
the twine which fastened the parcel. At length 
the string was loosened, the paper removed and 
the lid of the box lifted off. There lay the folds 
of yards of the silveriest of gray taffeta silks 
with little black stars dotted all over it, the first 
silk gown Mehitable had ever owned in her life. 

“ The Lord-a-massy ! The Lord-a-massy ! 
238 


CHRISTMAS DAY 


This for me? Why, I never did — no, I never 
did — in all my bom days. Why, I shouldn’t 
never dare wear it in the world. WTiy, I never 
did I ” cried Mehitable, completely overwhelmed 
by her good fortune. 

Isn’t it pretty? Isn’t it. Aunt Mehitable? 
I’m so glad you like it,” cried Pen, prancing 
about and clapping her hands joyfully, while 
Mehitable nervously stroked the soft folds of 
silk and continued to murmur: 

^^Well I, never did — no, never.” 

Suddenly in the midst of her admiration she 
stopped, looked wildly about her, then hurriedly 
getting to her feet, placed the cherished silk 
carefully upon her chair, saying: 

“ Good land o’ the livin’, I certain do believe 
I’m possessed. Don’t see how I could a clear 
forgot all about ’em. It wouldn’t do fer me ter 
come ter Boston more’n once in five years; I 
shouldn’t have a spark o’ sense left,” and away 
she hurried from the room. 

“ I wonder what is up? ” said Mr. Carey, try- 
ing not to smile as she disappeared. Before 
anyone could arrive at a conclusion Mehitable 
reentered the room carrying a carefully wrapped 
239 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 

parcel which she placed upon a table and pro- 
ceeded to undo, meanwhile saying: 

“ ’TainT no great shakes of a Christmas pres- 
ent, to be sure, and certain does look kinder 
‘ Slim- Jim ’ side o’ that elegant silk. My, how 
it does shine — don’t it! But I thought like 
’nough you’d think they weren’t so terrible bad, 
after all.” 

As she spoke she lifted from a snowy towel 
two huge pies, a box of cookies and a bagful of 
eggs. “ There, Mis. Carey, it’s the best offerin’ 
1 can make, but I want ter tell you one thing; 
every last plum in that mincemeat, every slice 
o’ apple in this pie, and every crumb in them 
cookies is just as brimful o’ love fer you an’ 
yours as a grateful soul can fill ’em. Amen ! ” 


240 


CHAPTER XXI 


IN THE CHEISTMAS TWILIGHT 

“ Land the livin’, I believe I’m more tuck- 
ered out’n I’ve ever been after a bull day’s wasb- 
in’,” sighed Mebitable, as she dropped into a low 
chair before the cheerful blaze of the log fire 
burning in the wide fireplace of the living room. 

Mr. Carey, who sat opposite to her, enjoying 
his after-dinner cigar and watching with the in- 
tense satisfaction of a contented man the wreaths 
of smoke as they circled around and were finally 
whirled up-chimney, answered : “ Yes, it has been 
a pretty lively sort of day, hasn’t it. Miss Star- 
bright? But thank God for its happiness,” he 
added impressively. 

“Amen!” said Mrs. Carey fervently, from 
her chair close beside him. 

“ Amen and amen ninety and nine times ! ” 
cried Mebitable. “ The year has brought more 
into my life ’n all the hull thirty-three I’ve lived, 
241 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


and that^s true as gospel. ’Pears ter me I’ve been 
sort o’ dreamin’ fer thirty-two and have only just 
waked up. Reckon if I’d done so sooner I’d a 
got a sight more comfort out o’ life. Well, 
’tain’t a mite er use ter fret over bygones, I dare 
say, but if I don’t git somethin’ out o’ the years 
ahead of me my name ain’t Mehitable Starbright. 
Come here, Penelope.” 

The concluding words were spoken in some- 
thing of Mehitable’s old high and mighty man- 
ner and Penelope slightly started. 

Mehitable saw the change flash across the 
child’s face and hastened to add : 

La ! I hollered at yer so I most scairt yer ter 
death, didn’t I, lamb? Don’t mind my sharp 
tongue; I guess it’s made different from other 
folks,’ and has got a snapper at the end like Si’s 
whip ; but it ain’t a-goin’ ter do no more harm’n 
his whip, if I c’n help it. So come along and let 
me cuddle you. I’ve missed so many chances 
that it’s high time I began to make ’em up,” and 
over Mehitable Starbright’s face crept a ten- 
derer expression than any beyond that fireside 
had ever seen rest upon it. 

Penelope bounded up from the great white 
242 


IN THE CHRISTMAS TWILIGHT 

bear-skin hearth rug upon which she was sitting, 
King stretched at length upon one side of her 
and Bunny curled up at the other. All around 
her were her Christmas toys with which she had 
been playing. The day had been a happy one 
for the little girl, overflowing with new experi- 
ences and manifestations of the love which now 
filled all her little world, and in which she was 
blossoming and developing like a beautiful 
flower. For three years the little plant had 
struggled in a most uncongenial atmosphere. 
From early mom she had laughed, sung, and 
played, the very personification of happiness, 
and filled this home with a joy too deep for 
words to express. To Mehitable Starbright, the 
day had been a revelation from the moment she 
opened her eyes in her bedroom to this very 
hour. She had not been still a second but had 
gone from one room to another, from one occu- 
pation to another ; first hurrying up to her bed- 
room with the intention of making the bed and 
setting the room in order, only to find herself 
forestalled by the chambermaid, and the room 
immaculate. Next her services were offered to 
Mrs. Carey, who she was sure must need them 
243 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


in laying the dinner table for the three o’clock 
dinner, served early for the little daughter’s 
benefit. But there, too, others had been before 
her, and she learned with some surprise that Mrs. 
Carey was not obliged to attend to such matters. 
As a last resort she turned to Penelope, who 
had no heavier duty than to enjoy the beautiful 
Christmas gifts which had come from far and 
near, for Mrs. Carey’s friends had taken this 
opportunity to express their sincere delight at 
this little daughter’s restoration to her home. 

And, contradiction of contradictions, Mehit- 
able Starbright had actually played dolls with 
Penelope ! Seated upon the floor near the 
Christmas tree, she had helped Penelope try on 
the wonderful new doll the gorgeous garments 
which filled the doll’s basket to the very top. 
Gown after gown was put on and admired, 
Mehitable growing nearly as enthusiastic over 
them as their little owner, and evincing deep 
concern if each tiny hook and button were not 
properly adjusted. 

But the crowning delight was the name given 
to the new doll. Its choice caused Pen deep 
concern. One name after another was sug- 
244 


IN THE CHRISTMAS TWILIGHT 

gested by her mother, her father and Miss Star- 
bright, but none seemed to be the proper one. 
The situation grew desperate. 

“ No,” said Pen, wagging her head solemnly 
when about twenty ditferent appellations had 
been suggested for the blond-haired, blue-eyed 
beauty seated in state in her Wakefield rocking- 
chair, ^‘no, she must have a somebody name, 
not just a book name. She must have a name I 
love, ^cause she’s so beautiful,” and the little 
mamma kissed the bisque face rapturously, and 
then struck a thoughtful attitude. The next mo- 
ment she clapped her hands together and cried : 

“ I know ! I know ! I know ! I’ll name her 
‘Mehitable’ for Aunt Mehitable, ’cause I love 
her next to mother and daddy, and my first dolly 
was named for mother.” 

My land o’ massy,” was all Mehitable said, 
but no greater compliment was ever likely to be 
paid her. 

So it was not surprising that the Christmas 
twilight found Mehitable clear tuckered out.” 
Happiness can sometimes bring about as great a 
degree of fatigue as toil. 

Tell me a story. Aunt Mehitable, please do,” 
245 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


begged Penelope, as she snuggled down in Me- 
hitable’s ams. 

A story ! ” repeated Mehitable in dismay. 
‘‘ I ain’t never told a story in all my born days.” 

Better begin right off, then: there is no 
telling how many you may have to tell in the 
future,” cried Mr. Carey. “You have already 
‘met up’ with a voracious appetite for such 
diversion.” 

“Yes, this is just the season and the hour 
for tale-telling,” added Mrs. Carey. 

“But I don’t know a sign of a story,” ex- 
claimed Mehitable. “Better some one else do 
the tellin’.” 

“By the way, I will tell you a very short 
one; a ‘truly-true’ one as Pen calls such, but 
only on the condition that Miss Starbright fol- 
lows it up with one. Is it a bargain? ” asked 
Mr. Carey. 

“ Reckon you’ll all wish yourselves dead 
and buried before I’ve finished — if I ever git 
started,” was Mehitable’s ominous warning. 

“ We will chance it,” said Mrs. Carey, laugh- 
ing light-heartedly. 

“ My story is a short one,” began Mr. Carey^ 
246 


IN THE CHRISTMAS TWILIGHT 


“ You koow I learned when down at Long Point 
last October that Putnam was an old college 
mate; he would have graduated with my class 
from Harvard had not a contrary fate decreed 
otherwise. Things have been sort of crosswise 
with him for years, and he has been buried down 
in that God-forsaken hole — oh, 1 beg your par- 
don, Miss Starbright,” cried Mr. Carey in con- 
sternation at his slip of the tongue. 

‘‘You neednT; I guess you^re nearer right ^n 
you think. Fve felt moreen once ’s if the Lord 
had forsaken one critter down there, anyhow,” 
was Mehitable’s feeling response. 

“ Well — if s said,” continued Mr. Carey, “ and 
can’t well be unsaid now. At all events I’ve 
felt it to be a poor place for a man of Putnam’s 
ability, so I’ve been keeping my eyes open for 
something better for him, and I’ve found it. 
You know, mother, Rockwood is going to resign 
from the Second National, and there didn’t seem 
to be anyone in the bank to step into his place : 
the clerks under him are all too young for such 
a responsible position; I got wind of it, and 
being one of the directors I put in a word for 
Putnam and it’s a go; the position is his. He 
17 247 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


will come up to fill it the first of January. He 
is coming up next week and will bring his family 
just as soon as he can find a suitable house. 
There ! That ends my story, and I’m better sat- 
isfied with that present than any I’ve been able to 
give this Christmas, because it helps a man live 
up to his talents and ability and surrounds him 
with the atmosphere he ought to be in.” 

“ Oh, I am delighted,” cried Mrs. Carey fer- 
vently. “I was so attracted toward Mrs. Put- 
nam and the children.” 

“ There ain’t no finer family ter be found on 
the hull Cape,” cried Mehitable. 

Is Tad coming to live in Brookline ? ” asked 
Pen eagerly. 

“ He surely is, by and by, when Mr. Putnam 
can find a little house to put him in,” answered 
Mr. Carey. 

“Oh, why can’t he live in the little house 
down on the next street? The one with all those 
funny little windows like diamonds. Don’t you 
know the house, mother? I told you I guessed 
Aunt Mehitable wouldn’t want to wash those win- 
dows,” was Pen’s eager interjection. 

“ Why, the very place, of course ! ” cried Mrs. 

248 


IN THE CHRISTMAS TWILIGHT 


Carey delightedly. ‘‘It is a charming little 
dwelling, and recently vacated by the owner who 
had left Brookline.” 

“Pll look to it to-morrow morning. Pen, 
you’re a little trump ! Now for your story. Miss 
Starbright.” 

“IVe been a-hopin’ an’ a-prayin’ you’d for- 
git all about it,” replied Mehitable, laughing in 
spite of herself. 

“Not a bit of it. Keep to your bargain,” 
cried Mr. Carey, merrily. 

“What under the sun, moon an’ stars shall 
I tell? ” said Mehitable desperately. 

“ Tell us about the time when you were a little 
girl, Aunt Mehitable. That’s what mother tells 
me,” was Pen’s suggestion. 

“ ’Tain’t worth tollin’. There weren’t a single 
thing in it but havin’ my own way whenever I 
could git it, and there weren’t many times I 
couldn% and thafs the solemn truth — an’ then 
a-wishin’ I hadn’t. I can’t remember a single 
time in all my life when a-doin’ ’xactly as I set 
out ter made me a mite happier, but I kin re- 
member a sight o’ times when it’s made me miser- 
able.” 


249 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET’S NEW HOME 


As Mehitable talked a deep shadow fell across 
her face, and she looked into the fire as though 
she there saw pictured many visions which had 
vanished as the smoke was vanishing up the 
chimney. Unconsciously, she clasped Penelope 
more closely as though holding fast to one very 
real and tangible joy which had come into her 
life. Perhaps the touch was suggestive for 
coming hack to a sense of her surroundings 
with a start, she added : 

‘‘ I told you I couldn’t tell a story to save my 
life. And as to tollin’ one about myself there 
weren’t hut one beautiful thing ever happened 
to me, and then I was too big a fool to know that 
it was beautiful. Mebbe if I had sensed it I’d 
a-been sittin’ somewhere else ter-night, a-holdin’ 
— well, never mind what^^ she broke otf sud- 
denly. 

“ Oh, what? What? Please tell me. Aunt 
Mehitable, please,” begged Pen. 

Before Mehitable could reply a long and per- 
emptory ringing of the doorbell announced a 
visitor, and a moment later a jovial voice was 
crying : 

“ Merry Christmas ! Merry Christmas ! How 
250 


IN THE CHRISTMAS TWILIGHT 

are you all? Sort o’ late in the day to pay my 
respects, but only just got ashore this morning 
and heard the good news! God bless me, but 
it is good. So I bore down as fast as my mains’l 
would fetch me and took another hark in tow, 
too. How are you all? How are you?” and 
into the room came Captain Winsted, closely 
followed by a tall, dark man, whose deep-set 
eyes seemed instantly to take in every person 
and object in the room. 

Mr. Carey sprang forward to clasp Captain 
Winsted’s hand in both his own, and exclaim 
heartily : Why, this seems too good to be true ! 
When did you reach port? ” 

‘‘This very morning,” was the answer in a 
deep voice which seemed to suggest the broad 
Atlantic. 

Meanwhile Mrs. Carey had advanced toward 
their other guest with both hands outstretched, 
and a smile of the warmest welcome upon her 
countenance, as she said: 

“Captain Cummings! Kindest of friends, 
how delighted I am to see you ! This is, indeed, 
a fitting ending to a happy day.” 

Captain Cummings held the slender hands in 
251 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 

# 

both his own as he bent down to look into the 
face raised to his. The last time he had looked 
upon that face lines of deepest sorrow were im- 
pressed upon it. To-night it was radiant with 
happiness. 

“And now is all well with ‘Madam Colum- 
bia ’ ? ” he asked gently. 

“ Thank God, yes,” replied Mrs. Carey softly 
and then turned to greet Captain Winsted. 

“ But you must know our little daughter and 
our guest,” she added a moment later. “ Penel- 
ope, my darling, speak to Captain Winsted, for 
he is one of mother’s dearest friends. Miss 
Starbright, let me present Captain Cummings.” 

More than a dozen years had passed since 
Mehitable Starbright and Lemuel Cummings had 
looked into each other’s eyes and that look had 
flashed with anger. Bitter words had been ex- 
changed and neither would yield a single inch. 
Now they stood face to face once more; Mehit- 
able a woman of thirty-three, Lem a man of 
thirty-eight. The interval had been one of 
vicissitudes for both. Mrs. Carey looked on in 
surprise. She was the first to recover herself 
and relieve the awkward situation. 

252 


IN THE CHRISTMAS TWILIGHT 

Have old friends met? ^ she asked pleas- 
antly. 

Vm willin’ to call it by that name if he is,” 
said Mehitable, laughing rather nervously, as 
she extended her hand. 

Captain Cummings took it and held it a mo- 
ment as he said: ^^I guess we’ve both had time 
to settle down to something like common sense, 
and ^ friend ’ is too rare a word to be juggled 
with. How are you, Hitty? I didn’t look to 
find you here. I’m glad to see you, for a fact. 
But what about the little girl that didnH get 
drowned after all ? ” and Captain Cummings laid 
his hand upon Penelope’s sunny head and looked 
into the brown eyes regarding him so earnestly. 

No child could resist Lem Cummings’s smile, 
and the next second Penelope was up in his 
arms telling him how she had been found, and 
the whole history of her little life, while Captain 
Winsted held one of her hands and joined in the 
conversation whenever a word could be wedged 
in. There was much to be told, and long before 
the wonderful tale was ended the two big men 
were seated before the fire, Penelope upon Cap- 
tain Cummings’s knee, her hand in Captain Win- 
253 


LITTLE MISS CEICKET’S NEW HOME 


sted’s — a little wild-wood flower between two 
rugged pines — as they listened with absorbing 
interest to the story of tbe three years into which 
so many events had been crowded. 

Little did Pen guess how eloquently she was 
pleading one lonely woman’s cause, for in tell- 
ing of her life in Mehitable’s home she seemed 
to forget the unpleasant experiences and recall 
only the happier ones, in which Silas, Sally, 
Kate, the robin. Frisky and Bunny had figured. 
How Silas loved her ; how the robin had whistled 
for her “ until she flew all away ” ; how Frisky 
had danced and piped, hut never a word regard- 
ing the little mouse’s tragic end; all the joys, 
but none of the heartbreaks. Perhaps they were, 
indeed, forgotten. Childish sorrows, thank God, 
are evanescent! 

“And then I got all found again and had 
to come away with mother and daddy — but I 
wanted to, you know! Oh, yes, I wanted to — 
and Aunt Mehitable had to stay at Long Point 
all alone. That’s why she came up here to spend 
Christmas — she couldn’t get along without me 
any longer,” and Pen’s head was wagged sol- 
emnly to emphasize her assertion. 

254 


IN THE CHRISTMAS TWILIGHT 

“No, I don’t reckon she could, to save her 
life,” broke in Captain Winsted, as he patted the 
little girl gently upon her shoulder. 

But Captain Cummings turned to look at Me- 
hitable who sat upon the opposite side of the 
hearth, the firelight softening the lines of her 
face until something of the “ Hitty ” Starhright 
of fifteen years before seemed to sit there. He 
did not speak, and Mehitable, lost in a little 
dream world of her own, was unaware of his 
scrutiny. 

“ But you haven’t told us yet how you knew 
mother when you met her in the Public Gar- 
dens,” said Captain Winsted. 

“ I didnH and she didnH know me ; it was the 
poppy song. I told her I loved the poppy song 
and when I began to sing it we knew each other 
right off.” 

“ Could you sing it for me, little one? ” asked 
Captain Cummings, bending down to look into 
Pen’s face. 

“ I guess I could if mother will help : mother 
makes the piano sing the other part so pretty 
that I can sing better then.” 

Without a word Mrs. Carey rose from her 

255 


LITTLE MISS CRICKET^S NEW HOME 


chair and seating herself at the piano began to 
softly play the accompaniment to the lullaby. 

Clasping her hands in her lap, Pen raised her 
head and as the first notes of the beautiful little 
song flowed from her lips promptly forgot 
everybody and everything about her. When she 
came to the last line, 

‘‘ And this way, that way, up and down. 

Nodded the beautiful curly crown,” 

the little head began to nod in reality, for the 
day had been filled with exciting experiences for 
the little maid, and dear mother Nature was 
beckoning her to the “ Sleepy Town ” of which 
she was singing so sweetly. 

Lower and lower drooped the golden head 
until it rested upon Lem Cummings’s shoulder, 
and a soft little sigh told that the singer had 
slipped away into a happy dreamland sur- 
rounded by those she loved best, and into whose 
lives she had brought love and joy to replace 
bitterness and sorrow. 


256 





BY GABRIELLE E. JACKSON* 


Sunlight and Shadow. 

Four Full-page Illustrations in Colors. i2mo. Ornamental 
Cloth, $1.50. 

“ A wholesome little tale is this, tingling with life and youthful spirits.” 

— The Interior, 

Little Miss Cricket. 

Five Full-page Illustrations, one in Colors. i2mo. Ornamental 
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“ A very charming and pathetic little heroine has been brought into life 
by Gabrielle E. Jackson in ‘ Little Miss Cricket.’ ’’—AViy York Sun, 

Big Jack. 

Illustrated. i2mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.00. 

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of his children .” — Dayton Daily News. 

Little Miss Sunshine. 

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Little Comrade. 

Illustrated. i2mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.00. 

Every child should be taught the love of animals. This book teaches 
that love. 

The Colburn Prize. 

Illustrated. i2mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.00. 

Dedicated to the school-girls throughout the land. Nine full-page illustra- 
tions add to the charm of this exquisite gift book. 

Three Graces at College. 

With Illustrations in tint by C. M. Relyea. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 

A charming story of college life, its ideals, recreations, temptations, and 
rewards. This book tells of the maturer years of the three little girls de- 
scribed in 

Three Graces. 

Illustrated in Colors by C. M. Relyea. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
A story for girls of boarding-school life, full of incident and wholesome 
characterization, with delightfully cozy scenes of indoor enjoyment and an 
exciting description of a Hallowe’en escapade. 


D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 


r ■■■. i- y a 

ILLUSTRATED JUVENILE STORIES. 


Fifty-two Stories for Girls. 

Edited by Alfred H. Miles. Illustrated. i2mo. 
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A story for every week in the year. The very best present a girl 
could have. A constant reminder of the giver. Fifty-two stories by 
the best English writers, inculcating the love of honor, truth, and loyalty. 
These are such stories as it will do little girls good to read. They teach 
the love of home and many lovable qualities. Among the contributors 
are Margaret Watson, Jennie Chapman, Lucy Hardy, Alfred H. Miles, 
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Fifty-two Stories for Boys. 

Edited by Alfred H. Miles. Illustrated. i2mo. 
Ornamental Cloth, $1.50. 

A story for every week in the year. The very best present a boy 
could have. A constant reminder of the giver. Fifty-two stories by the 
best English writers, inculcating the love of honor, manhood, truth, and 
patriotism. These are stories which stir the imagination and stimulate 
the reader to try to become a great man himself. Among the con- 
tributors are Alfred H. Miles, Robert Overton, Lieut.-Col. A. J. Mac* 
pherson, G. A. Henty, F. M. Holmes, and Grace Stebbing. 

Fifty-two More Stories for Boys. 
Fifty-two More Stories for Girls. 

Edited by Alfred H. Miles. Illustrated. i2mo. 
Each $1.50. 

These two volumes are companions to the two “ Fifty-two Stories ” 
books published last fall. Each book will contain a story for every week 
in the year, particularly suited to the tastes of young boys and girls. 
The stories are by the best writers and cover a wide range of subjects. 


D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 


By C C HOTCHKISS. 


The Land Hero of 1812. 

Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst. lamo. Cloth, 
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Mr. Hotchkiss, who is well known through his stories for grown-ups, has 
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The Vinland Champions. 

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lumbus. The story tells of the party of one hundred Icelanders who went and 
dwelt there and called it the “ Peace Land.” 


By JULIE M. UPPMANN- 


Every-Day Girls. 

Illustrated in colors. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 

The best book for girls that has appeared in years ; it has all the charm 
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They have a hard and exciting time, and they fight a battle and wm it. It is 
a charming, wholesome book. 


D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 


HEALTHY, KINDLY, HAPPY. 

Forest Land. 

By Robert W. Chambers. Illustrated. 
Square 8vo. $1.50 net ; postage additional. 

This is a series of beautiful little stories beauti- 
fully illustrated. They tell of the adventures of a 
little boy and a little girl up on the breezy hills on 
the edge of the woods making their acquaintance 
with Forest Land. The stories are illustrated by 
eight full-page pictures in colors by Emily Benson 
Knipe. The pictures are in happy accord with the 
text. The book has a picture cover, a fancy lining, 
and attractive little sketches at the heads and ends 
of the chapters. Butterflies are to be found on odd 
pages apparently fluttering through the book. 

The little girl and the little boy first hear the 
** Voice of the Forest whispering eagerly to them 
to come and see it, and respond to the invitation. 
Then they go in and learn all the strange secrets of 
the wee wild things, and promise the trees that they 
will never be cut down. The chapters fill the 
reader, be he young or be he old, with a feeling of 
the fresh outdoors, healthy, kindly, happy thoughts, 
and pure ideas. The breezy kindliness of Mr. Cham- 
bers’s writings is better than a tonic. 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. NEW YORK. 



SEP 13 1907 







